Three Times the Foul
Author's Note: Hi. This is my first Smallville fic. I've had the thought floating around in my head for the last couple of weeks but have only now just finished it. It's kinda slashy in places so be warned. It's not my fault if you didn't read this note.
There's an overpowering sizzle sound in my kitchen as my mom gently lays a few more slices of bacon over the frying pan. Freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and I, I sit quietly; an ill feeling deep in my stomach. My fork pokes mechanically at the fried eggs adorning my plate. The yoke is seeping into the bit of hash brown which accompanies it. The sausage is cooling and will soon be cold; the same can be said for the lonesome toast that lay lifelessly on its own plate. It's not an uncommon breakfast. In fact, it's a breakfast I eat quite often. That's fine though, it's my favorite and yet…I've taken no more than a bite or two of the small feast before me. I can't enjoy it today.
"Clark?"
I look across the table to see my father eying me with concern. I avert my gaze by taking a large sip of coffee. I can't look at him right now. It feels too weird. "Yeah, dad?" I say as I force my attention to fall on the assortment of jams that are just beyond my reach.
"Is something bothering you? You've barely touched your breakfast."
I decide on Blueberry, shift in my seat to get it, pop off the lid and begin spreading it over my toast. It will probably taste just as foul as the eggs to me though. "Not all that hungry I guess."
He probes me with his eyes. Please stop looking at me. Suddenly it feels hot in here. I take a bite of the toast; as I thought. Foul.
He still looks at me with concern. I try to think of something to say that will reassure him, if I say it's nothing or make up some lame excuse he'll know something's wrong. But it's not wrong; it's just, not really right, it's unsettling but I can work this out. Right? "I- it's just," no that wont work. Try again. "Have you ever-" no that's not good either; It'd be letting on too much. I lean back in the chair and before I can stop it, two syllables leave my mouth. "Lana." I didn't mean to say that. I didn't.
"Oh," My father says, "I see."
To my relief, he leaves it at that. He knows we're on shaky ground, Lana and I. Lana. . . I think I just made the gap, the secrets between us even greater. There's a memory flash, my checks flush, the visual images of smooth somewhat muscular skin runs through my mind. How could I? I look up to my father again and the heat I feel intensifies, I dare not try to speak anymore of what transpired the other day to him. Man to man? I'm not ready for that yet.
"I think I'll head off to school early," I say abruptly.
"Clark I want you to finish eating before you go," My mother interrupts. I look up to her and quickly shovel the contents of my breakfast into my mouth. I can't look at her either. She might be more accepting of this but I haven't even come to terms with it, so how can I begin to talk to her about it?
"Bye." I say; my lips give her a quick peck on her cheek. I grab my school bag and before anything more can be said I'm off; passing neighbor farms and wild growth before arriving not far away from my school.
I try to clear my head, but I'm fully recalling the event now. My hands caressing and kneading and later, gripping well shaped hips. The unforgettable feeling of my flesh against the flesh of another, the heated cries. . .
I relish the thought and yet I feel ashamed, fore it wasn't with her. I know her feelings and she knows mine, but I did it anyway. We secretly believe we belong to each other. I know she'd be hurt if she found out.
Look at that. I'm entering the main entrance of the school. I didn't even realize I was walking. I push through the doors and through the hustle and bustle of students to my locker. Fumbling with the combination, I could hear her light laughter, Lana's song bird laughter, she wasn't far off and a moment later, I saw her moving proudly through the hall. For the first time, my stomach turns at the sight of her. That's how much shame I feel, I think the guilt is so profound because I enjoyed it. Thank God she didn't see me. I can't face her right now.
I kept to myself for the day, more so than usual. At one point Pete caught me unawares. I recall my actions were rather jerky. He asked me what was up, I asked him not to. He prodded, all I divulged was that I was working through something and wanted to be left to my own devices. There was an alarmed look in his eyes at that point. I don't blame him, the last time I tried to work something out on my own, I ended up skipping town with a small red meteor rock for nearly three months. I managed a faint smile and assured him that it was nothing serious, just a bit of good old fashioned teen angst and an immense amount of relief washed over his face.
After that, we said little to each other in class and when we let out for lunch he said he was going to go see if Chloe wanted to grab some lunch with him, if not, he'd pick something up for her. He knew how swamped she was with trying to run The Torch while also working for the Daily Planet.
I end up skipping my last class and before I know it, I find myself walking the mansion corridors. The door to Lex's office is slightly ajar. I peer inside and am surprised to see that he is behind his desk, fumbling through papers and madly typing on his laptop.
Funny, I would have thought he'd be in Metropolis, not here. Should I talk to him about-another thought. My senses had seemed keener than usual that night; I thought I'd heard an echo from the clothing as it fell to the floor. Our lips engaged each other numerous times, with a ferocity I hadn't known we were capable of. In a rasped voice he'd instructed me on the execution of my ministrations. Attention fell over my body, his fingers tracing, his lips tasting, I was reminded of the emblem that had been across my chest, my father's mark, and how it had periodically brought me to my knees in an agonizing pain that was very much different from the affects of the green meteor rocks. I remember being thankful that the mark had receded after my father brought me back to my senses, not my true father of course, but the man I feel privileged to call father. I remember I'd ushered away Lex's hands and lips at the undesirable memories and it was then that I was pressed up against his back doing things I'd rather not say or think of right now.
I swallow; there's a lump in my throat that I can't seem to rid myself of. Is it time for confrontation, or escape? I need to make my decision quickly. People, especially Luthers have a tendency of noticing when they're being spied upon.
I take a step forward, my hand quietly flies onto the handle of the door improperly closed but I don't pull back. I stand there frozen. It is now that I realize, how badly my hand is shaking. A moment later I pry it off.
"Who's there?" Lex barks. I can't quite distinguish the tone. He stands and strides my way. Panic flares up inside me and I want to run. I really want to run. But, for some reason, my legs won't move. Come on, move!
"If I recall correctly, I believe I forbad any visitors from sneaking around," Move damn it move! "in my home." It's too late now, he's closing in, even if I could move, he'd catch me using my powers, "I'm not in the mood for company."
He pushes open the door dramatically. And we're staring each other in the face. He seems to also be frozen in place. I'm not sure, but I think I'm looking at him as though I'm preparing to wince from an on coming attack. I swallow hard several times. He studies me with an unreadable expression plastering his face. He opens his mouth once, twice, many more times after that, but no words come out.
My hands feel sweaty. Then again, so does my forehead, neck, and back… Unlike last time, my perspiration is purely non-sexually based. Is it nervousness that's the cause?
At last, with a dry voice, while he steps aside, "Come in."
Without thinking, I take him up on his invitation.
"How did you-" He stutters. "No one informed me you were here." He rasps. "How did you"- he repeats himself, but then decides not to press the matter.
He walks jaggedly back behind his desk and folds his laptop, he tidies his desk a little while he's at it.
"Lex…" I say in a rasp similar in tone to his.
"L-Lex," I say pressing my hands on his desk. I look at him with resolve. "I think we need to talk."
There's an awkward silence that ensues. When our eyes finally meet, we try to read each other.
"Talk…" He repeats. "Uh, yeah. Talk. Yes. . ."
I raise a brow; this wasn't the always cool and composed Lex I'd known for the passed three years.
"About. . ."
"What happened the other day?" he completes.
I nod. "About, what happened. . ."
"It was a mistake." He says quickly.
I must admit it stings to hear him so hastily brush the incident aside. "Right," I add. "Just an easily forgettable mistake."
I watch him as he walks back around the desk. I wonder where he's heading and I find myself admiring his physique. Why is it that I'm only noticing how attractive he is just now? Wait. Did I say attractive? Surely that was a mistake as well. He's, he's a guy. I like women. Women! Why am I trying so hard to convince myself of this fact?
"I don't remember-A lot of it was a blur to me," he confides. "I remember feeling a bit odd."
"I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was too many hours dealing in farm chemicals?" How dumb does that sound? But actually, now that I think of it, I think I was acting under some sort of influence. Another type of meteor rock I think. I remember seeing something clear, like diamonds. Lex had said something about it being a recently discovered mineral that interestingly enough, was first sighted just beyond the borders of Smallville.
Several more minutes are spent in silence. I find myself thinking about Krypton and wondering if the people had homosexual tendencies. Was my origin where this was coming from?
"Are we okay?" He finally asks.
"If you're okay."
"So we're cool?"
I can't help the child like grin. "We're cool." What a relief. I feel so much better now. It suddenly doesn't seem so shameful either.
Lex's back is to me. He wonders around the room, studying it, as if for the first time and then decides to walk over to his portable stereo. He looks to me. "Do you mind if I?"
"Oh, sure go ahead." I wonder if I should offer a small smile, but before I can draw a conclusion, he turns away from me and presses play.
A noise that I never thought I'd hear coming from his stereo sounds throughout the room. It's the running of water. A waterfall, perhaps?
"Interesting choice of music," I offer.
"I find it relaxes me."
"Really? I'd think it the last sound you'd want to hear."
He grins and gazes off into the distance thinking fondly, "Yeah. A person's desire is a strange thing to understand isn't it?"
He closes his eyes for a moment and I'm completely dumbstruck by him. His serene, powerful beauty. Before I know it, I'm hovering over him. Looking at him with, adoration? Intrigue? Question?
He opens his eyes, "How did you, from over there. . ." my arms wrap around his waist, "so fast. . ."I lean in. I think he leaned forward. Our lips touched for a moment and then again, and then once more only we held it, tasting each other. His hands rest at the nape of my neck.
I'm not sure which of us broke the kiss. Maybe it was a mutual separation.
My arms were still around him, his were still around me.
"It's a mistake." I said quietly over the sound of the water.
"An easily forgettable mistake."
