
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/168256.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Smallville
  Relationship:
      Clark_Kent/Lex_Luthor
  Series:
      Part 21 of Corner_of_the_World
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-03-07 Words: 14772
****** Corner of the World 20: Trust, part 2 ******
by serafina20
Summary
     The Kents and Lex have a family discussion.
"Sit down, son," Jonathan said.
Taking a deep breath, Clark walked over to the couch and sat next to his
father. His back was very stiff as he faced the closed window. His telescope
was set to the side, curtains were closed over the doors that covered the
window, dark blue, chosen by his mother the weekend they had gone to
Metropolis.
A lifetime ago, when Clark had come out to his parents. And when rules had been
made and set for him and Lex.
The silence grew heavier and longer. Clark didn't know what to say, so he
simply sat, looking at the telescope.
He hadn't used it for actual star gazing for almost three weeks now. That was
when the new dreams had started. Clark was getting enough of space and stars in
his sleep to want to gaze at them when he was awake.
Dreams of space and stars and meteors, closed spaces and unfamiliar voices. And
a man and a woman whom he didn't recognize, but would know anywhere.
Shaking his head sharply, Clark tried to clear the image from his mind. He
didn't want to know them, didn't want to remember them. All he wanted was to be
normal. Human.
He snuck a glance as his father.
Jonathan wasn't looking at him. Instead, he was gazing straight ahead.
Taking a deep breath, Clark said, "Dad, I ..."
Jonathan shook his head, cutting him off. "I don't suppose I have to ask you
where you've been," he said softly. "Unless there's some new trouble in town
that you haven't told your mother or me about yet?"
Clark shrugged. "There was some trouble at Lex's earlier when I delivered the
flowers."
"Yes, you told us. The ghost. Were you over there ghost hunting?"
"No, sir."
"Then why were you there?"
Flushing, Clark shrugged.
Jonathan cleared his throat. "Of course. I meant ... why did you go over when
you knew you weren't supposed to?"
"I don't know," he whispered.
"Clark, just tell me. This will go a lot easier if you simply tell me what's
going on."
Frustration clogged his throat. "I don't know!" he said again, tears pounding
behind his eyes.
"Dammit Clark!" Jonathan swore, rising from the couch. "Don't do this. Just
tell me something. Anything. The truth. Why did you disobey us? Was it because
you think you know better? That you think we're being unfair? That you just ...
you were horny? Why? Tell me! Take responsibility for your actions. You know
you can come to your mother and me with things like this, and I don't want you
shutting us out. You've been caught. Deal with it and be honest. Be a man."
"Dad," Clark croaked, swallowing hard. His mind was racing, trying to think of
some way to explain what had happened without sounding crazy. Or, worse, that
he was lying. "I ... I don't know why I went over. I just had to be with him.
To see him. To make sure ..." He broke off.
"To make sure what?" Jonathan asked, his eyebrow raised.
"I don't know!" Clark practically shouted. "To make sure he was still there.
And that he was ok! And that he wasn't with Victoria. And that he was still
mine. And that he knew he was still mine."
Shaking his head, his father said, "Look, Clark, I know you want to be with
him, but you have to understand that there are limits on when ..."
"Why?" Clark interrupted.
"I beg your pardon?
"Why do there have to be limits? Why? I don't understand, because there are so
many and it's like ... like you don't trust me at all with him even though you
know ... you know he's what I want. But you and Mom keep insisting that there
are limits and I just. Don't. Get it."
"There are limits because ... because there have to be."
"But why? I just want a reason," he insisted, skin crawling. He rubbed his
arms, feeling twitchy. "I don't understand. It's not like we go to church, and
even if we did, aren't I damned anyway? I'm not human. I'm proof that ..."
"Clark, please," Jonathan said. "You know how your mother and I feel about that
kind of thing. You aren't damned, you aren't evil, and there is nothing sinful
about you. Don't start with that."
"But, Dad ..."
"There are limits because you aren't responsible and mature enough to make
decision for yourself about these things. You are still guided by your emotions
and ..."
"Right," Clark said. "I'm not mature enough to decide what's right for me. What
I need. What makes me feel right. But I am mature enough to make so many
sacrifices that I'm going crazy. To have this secret that's been eating me up
for years, not to be able to share anything I'm going through with my closest
friends. To be so alone, so ... so frustrated and scared. To watch you and mom
and Chloe and Lana and ... and everyone get attacked by these mutants, knowing
that I caused the mutations in the first place. I'm mature enough to deal with
all that and on top of it to pretend that I'm perfectly normal, only a little
geeky, but I'm not mature enough to be with my boyfriend." He was out of his
chair, pacing, glaring at his father through the tears in his eyes. "I have to
do all this stuff. I have to ... to give up on opportunities, never get to play
with my friends without this huge weight on my mind, but I'm not cut any slack.
I have to be confined to all the regular rules even though I'm not a regular
person. Dad, I'm not even human."
"Clark ..."
"It's not fair, Dad!" he shouted suddenly. "I can't sleep, ok? And he helps me
sleep. I know that you and Mom wanted to be the ones who did that for me, but
nothing worked. I'm sorry, but anything you guys tried ... it didn't calm me
down like he does. He ... he makes my mind settle, makes all that stuff that's
boiling inside go away and just ... I can sleep."
Jonathan shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "Why didn't you tell us that you
were having so much trouble?"
"I tried. When I was having nightmares, I tried. But they're not nightmares
anymore, not exactly. They just ... come. Suddenly, hit me. And I don't know
when they're coming and they're horrible, Dad. Being trapped and ... and ...
and ..." Clark broke off, gasping for air.
Immediately, Jonathan wrapped his arms around Clark and lowered them to the
floor. Holding Clark while he shook, Jonathan shushed in his ear, stroking his
back.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Clark forced the images away. "I can't talk about
these," he finally whispered. "I just ... can't. But he ... And I don't think
about going over there. I mean, the last two times, I just ... one second I'm
in bed, thinking, and the next I'm at his house. It's not like I'm trying to be
bad, Dad. I just ... go."
"Why? Just to sleep?"
"Because I have to be with him." He pulled away, wrapping his arms around his
knees, drawing in on himself.
Sighing, Jonathan ran his hand through his hair. "How long has this been going
on?"
"What part?"
"Any of it."
Wiping his eyes, Clark thought about it for a long moment. "It's not something
I consciously realized. I mean, I slept with Lex twice - just slept, not sex -
and it was ... different. I was calm, even though the first time Lex was really
upset. Sometimes I get this itch under my skin, and I know that I'm going to
have bad dreams, or whatever these dreams are. When I'm with him, the itching
goes away."
"When did these new dreams start?"
"The last three weeks or so. Since Phelan came. And ... and Victoria." He
sighed. "I hate her, Dad. I really do, and she's living in the castle with him.
I just ... hate it. I want her away."
"Do you think he's cheating on you?"
"No. Not really. But that doesn't stop me from ..."
"From what?"
Clark flushed, looking at the rug. "From needing to be with him. From needing
to make him know that he can't ... that he can't be with her."
"What do you mean 'make him know?'"
Clark flushed and hid his face. "Dad," he said softly. "Please don't make me
talk about that."
"Just tell me, Clark."
"I can't, Dad. Ok? I just ... it's too personal."
"Very well," Jonathan said after a long moment. "Let's talk about this ...
feeling. When you think about him, and get the feeling you need to be with him,
do you get ... itchy?"
"It's worse. My stomach gets queasy, and my head kind of aches. I get anxious
and edgy. I can't stop moving until I'm over there. And I don't even thing
about going over there until, suddenly, I'm there. I mean, it's not all the
time or anything. Just, well, mostly at night. Or when I think about it too
much." His lips began trembling. "I think there might be something wrong with
me."
Sighing, his father patted him on the shoulder. "I don't think that there's
anything wrong with you, Clark. You're probably just under stress. Things have
been pretty hectic, what with school and Phelan and Victoria and whatever
mutant that comes your way. I understand." He sighed again. "Isn't Victoria
Lex's ex-girlfriend?"
"Yes."
"That could be part of the problem too. Lex might not be with her anymore, but
it must feel as if she's ... encroaching on your territory. You feel
threatened. It happens; look at Mom and Nell."
Blushing, Clark nodded. "I don't ... I never meant to disobey you, Dad. Really.
I guess I understand why you don't want me over there during the week. But I'm
going through so much. Couldn't you, I don't know, cut me a little slack? Just,
something?"
"I don't know, Clark," Jonathan answered seriously. "We set rules for you and
Lex, and both of you have broken them. Why should we reward you by making new,
easier rules for you to follow?"
"I can't follow the rules. It's not like I'm trying to break them or anything.
It's just ... it's impossible for me to follow them. Is it really fair to try
to force me to do something I physically and mentally can't, and then punish me
when I fail?"
He thought about it for a moment. "Maybe you have a point. But we all need to
discuss this. Do you think you can refrain from sneaking out after curfew until
all of us - your mother, Lex, you, and me - can sit down and talk about what we
need to do?"
"I don't ... yeah," Clark sighed. "I'll do my best. But," he ran a hand through
his hair. "Am I grounded?"
"No. Not this time. But you need to try to control yourself until we decide
what to do. If you start to feel edgy, wake one of us up first. Talk to us,
Clark. We love you, and we want to help."
"Ok." He scrubbed at his face. "Are you going to tell Mom about tonight?"
"Yes."
"Dad, please," Clark asked softly. "She's going to be so disappointed in me.
She told me ... she told me not to go, and I did. Please don't tell her."
Sighing, Jonathan put his hand on Clark's back. "Clark, I'm not going to keep
this from her. This is a family issue."
"Does everything have to be a family issue?"
Jonathan smiled wryly. "With this family, it's always the best." He patted
Clark on the shoulder and rose. "She's understand. It's Mom. And I don't think
you are trying to disobey or disappoint us. And I'll tell her that, too. It
will be ok." With one last squeezed, Jonathan rose. "I need to get to work. Did
you want to help, or try and get in a half-hour of sleep?"
Clark shrugged. "I'll help. I just need to change first."
"Sounds good. See you outside."
"Thanks Dad," Clark said softly as Jonathan climbed down the stairs,
Pausing, Jonathan turned and smiled as Clark almost sadly. "You're welcome,
son."
***
Standing half naked in front of his mirror, clad only in his slacks, the black
collar, and various bruises, Lex ran a critical hand over his head. Half
turning, he studied his shoulders and lifted his arms experimentally. They
began to ache when he had them a quarter of the way raised. Lifting them higher
he discovered he had almost a full range of motion with just enough pain to
remind him that he was bruised. Putting them back down, he fingered the collar,
a grin spreading over his face.
The phone rang.
"Lex Luthor," he answered, eyes still on his reflection.
"I take it you survived the headache, sir," Damien responded, voice dry.
"Damien!" Lex exclaimed jovially; he was in an impossibly good mood. "Yes, I
did. No thanks to you."
"I've told you many times sir, I do not respond well to threats and pleas. When
you need medication, you needn't tell me. I'll know."
Lex snorted, running his hand over his bare chest. "Right, you know. Usually
because I've been knocked unconscious or beaten or stabbed. And that so very
rarely happens."
"And when you have not been assaulted or abused in any way, you do not need
anything."
"Damien, I get headaches."
"Take up yoga."
Lex made a face, and shook his head. "No thank you. I prefer the method that I
used last night."
"And that was?"
He bounced on his toes a few times. "Clark came over."
There was silence over the line.
"Damien?"
"Were you careful?"
Rolling his eyes, he responded, "No. And, you know what? I think I may be
pregnant."
"Sir."
Adopting a wounded expression, which he admired in the mirror, Lex said, "I
thought you said I was a great man. Don't you trust me?"
"Does she know?"
"No! Jesus Christ, Damien, show a little faith in my abilities not to fuck
everything up. She's up on the third floor for a reason, you know. The walls
are practically sound proof, the windows face away from the road. Victoria
can't see him arrive, and she can't hear us. The door was locked, and he left
before she got up for her morning swim. We're fine.
"I am sorry to have doubted you, sir, but we are in a precarious position." To
give him credit, he did sound sorry.
"I do know how to live and scheme without you, Damien. And everything is going
according to plan. My dear would-be-seductress broke into my, ahem, secret
files last night and read all about Camdus Labs."
"Did she take the bait?"
"She made a call to her father this morning while she was down at the pool. I
can only assume so. Still, we'll have to wait and see." He traced one of the
bite marks on his chest. "Dad, of course, is going crazy. I haven't told him
about the scheme, so he thinks I'm being had by Victoria. He gave me a lovely
lecture about what an idiot I'm being. I thought about easing his mind, but I
think I'll make him suffer a bit longer."
Damien cleared his throat. "Do you really think that's wise?"
Turning his head again to study his appearance, Lex decided he wanted to wear
the collar all day. He'd already decided on a turtleneck due to the hickey's
and the weather, and it would be ... fun to continue being collared.
Being owned.
Fingering the black leather while mentally deciding which shirt to wear, Lex
answered, "I don't trust Dad enough to keep it a secret right now. He's so
convinced he's all-powerful, he's liable to let something slip at the wrong
moment and ruin everything. I'll tell him if the Hardwicks buy the labs, so Dad
doesn't have a heart attack or kill me or anything. Besides, he pissed me off,
not having any faith in me. Does he really think I'm such a slave to my cock
that I'd let someone lead me around by it?"
There was dead silence on the other end.
"Damien?"
Coughing, Damien replied, "I beg your pardon, sir. I was getting a drink."
Lex snorted. "Once again, your faith in me is overwhelming," Lex said dryly.
Shaking his head, he let the subject drop . "So, tell me. Is Dominic being
helpful?"
"Dominic is being very helpful. With both Clark's papers, keeping me informed
on Lionel's doings, and," His voice changed, "other activities as well."
Licking his lower lip, Lex said, "Damien?"
"Yes, sir?" came the very innocent response.
He smiled. "Just how helpful is he being?"
"Let's just say that Dominic and his sister share many of the same ideas on how
to conduct business and ingratiate themselves with the person they are trying
to please. He is going above and beyond what is expected of him." He lowered
his voice. "And he is surprisingly good at what he does. I'm beginning to hope
that we keep him."
Laughing, Lex ran a hand down his chest once more, returning to his reflection.
"Just be careful. We still can't trust him."
"Your lack of faith is disturbing."
"Oh, please; like your faith in me this entire conversation has been anything
but. How are Clark's papers coming?"
"They're almost done. Dominic was disappointed that I declined his help in
having them redone, but not suspiciously so. He simply wants to be of help. The
woman drawing up the papers believes she will have them done by tomorrow. She
has also offered to go beyond the birth certificate and doctors records so it
will be impossible to prove that Clark Kent is not who his parents say he is.
If we don't, and your father decides to push this scheme farther, everything
could fall apart quickly. Clark may be taken away from his parents for good."
Lex furrowed his brow. "Does Dom think that Dad's going to push this very far?
I thought he just wanted to make Jonathan sweat."
Damien sucked air in through his teeth. "He isn't certain. Lionel's original
plan has been put off many times due to other business intruding. He hasn't
told Dominic that the plan has changed, but considering how unpredictable he
has been lately, Dominic thinks it would be safer to take advantage of the time
and take Penny's suggestion."
"Penny?"
"My forger."
"Ah. How much longer will that take?"
"Penny has many connections; she says that it would just take two more days."
"Well, how soon does it look like Dad's going to do this?"
"Dominic doesn't believe that he will take any action until after he has
settled things with the Hardwicks. We have time."
Nodding, Lex answered, "Good. Do it; I don't want to take any more chances.
Plus it gives me time to snare Victoria. I don't want to have to deal with both
her and having Clark taken away at the same time. Clark's having enough
problems dealing with her as it is; adding complications might push him over
the edge."
"Did something happen, sir?"
He sighed. "No, not really. I mean, I'm a little scary to look at right now,
but no. Clark's just a bit excitable and possessive."
Damien's voice was suddenly sharp and demanding. "What is wrong with your
appearance?"
Suppressing a smile, Lex looked at his reflection again. "Well, let's see. I
have a large and painful bruise on each shoulder, bite marks on my neck and
collar bone as well as down my torso and chest, finger bruises on my hips, and
... well, I'm a bit sore. It hurts a bit to sit down."
"Do you need me to send Dr. Pierce out?"
"No. I'm not injured."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Damien, I'm sure. I'd know if something was wrong, ok? I've been
seriously hurt before and this isn't anything like it felt then. This is simply
a ... pleasant ache."
"I see," Damien replied, his voice soft. "I thought you had resolved his
control issues."
Lex nodded, going into the bathroom for some water. "We did. He did all this on
purpose."
There was dead silence from the other end of the line.
Swallowing his water, Lex said, "Damien?"
"He meant to hurt you? Clark Kent meant to hurt you?" His tone was incredulous.
Lex sighed. "No, he didn't. He did mean to mark me. It wasn't like he pulled a
whip out and started going until he hit bone. Clark was ... wild, but in total
control of his strength. Although his eyes at the beginning ..." Lex trailed
off, shuddering. "I've never seen him look like that. So ... alien. Not that I
minded, but it was surprising." He walked back into his room, stopping in front
of his mirror once more.
"Is this new behavior?"
"Damien, we just started sleeping together again. Before he was too concerned
with controlling his strength to let go. So, yes it's new behavior, but it
could just be part of a progression."
"But," Damien persisted, "do you think Victoria might have anything to do with
this need to mark you?"
Lex shrugged. "Before she came, he was almost too afraid to touch me. We were
reduced to kissing and phone sex. Then she comes and suddenly he's not only
ready for sex, but he's sneaking over for it." He touched his shoulder gently.
"I've been marked before, with Victoria, but this was ... When Victoria did it,
it was deliberate. I knew what was going to happen. Clark didn't think; he just
acted, and I didn't know it was coming."
There was a long pause. "What are you going to do?" Damien finally asked.
"Nothing. Except hope Victoria leaves soon."
"Sir, you need to have a way to protect yourself, just in case he ever does
lose control and won't take no for an answer."
"I never said no, " Lex protested.
"But if you had, would he have listened?" Damien replied sharply.
Looking at his feet, Lex fingered the collar. He sighed and glanced back at the
mirror, taking in his battered condition. "I don't know," he admitted.
"You cannot afford to place yourself in such a vulnerable position. You must
find a way to defend yourself, even if it pains you."
"It's just sex, Damien. He wasn't going to kill me."
"His limits are not yours. You have taken an unfamiliar being into your bed,
and you must be prepared for the unexpected. Not because I believe that he
would ever consciously hurt you, but because he might do so unconsciously."
Nodding, Lex sighed. "Yeah. I understand. I ..." He was cut off by Mrs.
Palmer's angry and fearful voice shouting outside his door.
"Sir! You cannot go in there! If you don't leave, I will call the police and
..."
"Look, I'm sorry, but I have to see him!" Jonathan replied angrily. "I don't
have time to wait for his assistant to come back to make an appointment."
The door handle rattled.
Feeling frozen in place, all Lex could do was watch as his door was flung open
and Jonathan Kent, followed closely by his housekeeper, stormed into his room.
Jonathan's eyes went wide when he saw Lex. He stopped abruptly.
"I'll call you back," Lex said to Damien, hanging up.
"Sir, I am so sorry," Mrs. Palmer said, breathing hard. "He got past Mabel and
rushed into the house. I ..."
"It's ok," he assured her. "I can see him now. Just ... just leave us alone,
ok? Thanks."
Nodding, Mrs. Palmer said, "Of course, sir. And I am sorry." With one last
glare at Jonathan, she left.
There was a long silence as the two men looked at each other. Actually,
Jonathan had his eyes on the ground, glancing up to take in Lex's appearance
every few seconds. Lex, heart pounding, kept his eyes steady on the farmer.
Finally, Lex cleared his throat. "Mind if I ... why don't I go put something
on?"
"Of course."
Lex fled to his closet. Cursing under his breath, he unfastened the collar and
shoved it into his pocket. "I am so fucking dead," he said softly, pulling a
shirt off a shelf. Tugging it over his head, he tried to breathe.
He should be furious. After all, Jonathan was trespassing. He'd broken into his
house and intruded into his personal space. Lex should push back, yell at him,
maybe threaten to have him arrested.
Except ... Jonathan hadn't broken in to confront Lex, businessman and enemy.
He'd broken in to confront Lex, Clark's boyfriend.
And as Clark's boyfriend, Lex was in deep shit.
Taking a deep breath, Lex tried to calm his pounding heart. Feeling a tad
calmer, he went back to face Jonathan.
"Thanks," he said awkwardly, running a hand over his scalp.
Jonathan nodded. "I, uh, understand your father came to see you yesterday. Are
you ... did he ..." He trailed off, looking at Lex through questioning and
concerned eyes.
Flushing, Lex looked away. "Dad didn't ... he just shouted and waved his arms
around. He didn't ... I mean he never ... No."
Sighing in what Lex assumed to be relief, Jonathan said, "Good. But, uh ...
you're hurt. Do you ... Have you seen a doctor?"
"No."
"Do you need to?"
"No, I'm fine." His face was growing hotter by the moment.
Jonathan took a step closer to him. "Lex, what's going on?"
He glanced up, then back down. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm just ... It
was weird when you burst in here, that's all. And I ... I guess I know why
you're here. About Clark, I mean." He chewed on his lower lip, looking back up
at Jonathan.
"Yes. That's right; we do need to talk about you and Clark and what's been
going on lately. But, first, will you just tell me what's wrong. Why are you
all banged up? You have bruises all over."
Lex shrugged. "Uh ... my, uh ... fencing trainer came down and ..."
"Lex, you really are a surprisingly terrible liar. What the hell is going on?"
"Mr. Kent, it's none of your business. Will you just drop it? How am I supposed
to be acting? You break into my home, burst into my room while I'm dressing and
expect me to act normally?" Lex said angrily.
"Did Clark do that to you? Is that what this is about?"
Shaking his head, Lex said, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't just send him home last
night, but I don't have that kind of willpower. I know ... but I think ... I
... what ... are you doing?" he gasped as Jonathan began approaching him.
"We need to discuss that, yes, but it involves all of us," Jonathan said. He
was beginning to close in on Lex's personal space.
Breath catching in his chest, Lex took a step back.
"What I need to know," Jonathan continued, apparently unaware that he was
driving Lex closer to an asthma attack, "is whether or not my son is
responsible for those."
"Jesus Christ, Jonathan!" Lex wheezed. "Are you really that interested in your
son's and my sex life?" He put a hand to his heart, trying to catch his breath.
Jonathan stopped abruptly. "Are you ok?"
Putting his arm out, Lex nodded. "Just stay there, ok? Don't ... Excuse me." He
went to his nightstand and picked up his inhaler. Facing the wall, he breathed
in the medicated air, his limbs shaking. He wanted to sit, but he couldn't. He
had to face Jonathan on his own two feet.
Taking a deep breath, Lex put his inhaler down and turned. Smiling in a self-
deprecating manner, he said, "Sorry."
The other man shook his head. "My fault. I forgot about ... I should have
calmed down first. It's understandable that you ..." He broke off, then asked,
"Can you talk?"
"Yeah."
"Is Clark hurting you?"
Lex sighed in disgust. "Why don't you trust him?" he asked.
Jonathan lowered his eyebrows. "This has nothing to do with whether I trust him
or not, but ..."
"Yes it does!" Lex practically shouted, cutting him off. "You've got him
doubting himself so much, that he's terrified to touch me sometimes. And yes, I
know that I had something to do with that. I thought I was helping when I
offered to teach him control; it never occurred to me that something would
happen that would scare him away. But then, I don't know him like you. I
haven't been living with him his entire life, so I don't know his limits. You
should! Are you afraid of him?"
"No!"
"Right," Lex retorted sarcastically. "Of course you're not afraid of him;
you're not afraid that he'll hurt you anymore, you just don't trust him around
normal people."
"That isn't true!" he fired back.
"Oh, please. Have you ever wondered why the one girl Clark has ever really been
passionate about is one whom he can't get near most of the time? Or that he
didn't think I'd ever return his feelings, so he went ahead and fell for me?
And I bet his girlfriend, uh, Jenny. I'll bet that everyone knew she was moving
when they got together. Right?"
Jonathan cleared his throat and glanced at the floor. "Actually, yes. Their
house went up for sale the day before Clark asked her out."
Lex nodded. "Right. Haven't you ever wondered why?"
"Not really. I just thought that ... well, we didn't know why he couldn't get
near Lana until recently; we thought it was an extreme case of puppy love. How
do you know?"
"I'm not blind, sir. I've seen him around those rocks; they make him sick." He
sighed. "Clark has a lot of fears. I don't blame you for his fear of
abandonment, but I do for his fear of intimacy. And as I said, I've got a hand
in that too, but dammit. You don't trust him and have taught him not to trust
himself. Or to doubt that he can trust himself. And now that he's going through
these changes ..."
"What changes?" Jonathan interrupted.
He faltered, then thought a moment. "I don't know how to explain it. He's just
... different. More aggressive, I guess. On the one hand, he's going after what
he wants, and I like that. I think he needs that, because it means he learning
not to be so afraid of people. Or him around people. On the other hand, he's
still the same. A little scared, unsure, insecure, and ... and sweet." Lex
shrugged, feeling helpless.
"How long has he seemed different? When did you first notice these changes?"
Lex thought about it for a moment. "I'm not sure. Phelan ... but he and
Victoria happened at the same time. He's told you about Victoria, right?"
Jonathan nodded.
"Well, they shook him. He's been questioning things, having problems sleeping
again. But I think last night had more to do with Victoria."
"Do you care to tell me about what happened last night?"
Lex flushed. "Uh, no, sir. Just that ... he was different. Upset and ... well,
determined."
"Did he hurt you?" Jonathan asked again.
Lex met his eyes. "What happened last night is between Clark and me. You have
to trust us to deal with our sex life privately."
"He's my son."
"He's my lover."
"He's only fifteen years old, Lex!"
"You don't know that!" he shot back before he thought.
Jonathan blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
Cursing internally, Lex decided to forge ahead. "Look, you don't know what
fifteen means to him. I mean, yeah, he looks and acts human, but he's not."
"The other mutants ..."
"I know he's an alien, Mr. Kent."
Jonathan went pale. "What?" he gasped. He looked ill.
Cursing internally, Lex went to him. "Sit!" he ordered, pointing to a chair.
Jonathan simply swayed on his feet.
Taking him by the arm, Lex led him to the chair and sat him down. "Look," he
said softly, "he didn't tell me. I figured it out. And I'm not going to do
anything about it. I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't hurt any of you like that."
"How ..." Jonathan asked, voice rough.
Lex shrugged. "I'm smart, ok? You were much too relieved when I told you I
thought he was a mutant. So I started trying to find a better explanation. I
know you adopted him soon after the meteor shower, and that you took out your
first loan around the same time. It sounds impossible, but ... so is Clark. But
please, don't worry. I'd never do anything to hurt him."
Jonathan nodded. "I ... I need some time to ... to think about this."
Stepping back, Lex nodded. "Of course. I didn't ... I wasn't going to say
anything about this, because I didn't want you to have to worry about what I
would do with the information. I just think, when thinking about Clark and what
he needs or what he does, you have to take into consideration the fact that he
isn't human. And go from there."
"Have you told him that you know?"
"No. He's having a really hard time dealing with it. He can't say it, can't
even really think about it. The closest he gets is saying that he isn't human.
But he can't say alien." Lex smiled sadly. "I'm waiting for him to say it to me
before I tell him what I know. I don't want to break him."
Jonathan shook his head, rubbing his eyes. "If you ever do anything to him ...
you know I'll ..."
"Mr. Kent. I swear I won't hurt him. What can I do to convince you?"
He looked up, eyes heavy and sad. "I don't know. I'm sorry, I just don't."
Lex nodded, closing his eyes.
Jonathan sighed and rose. "We need to talk. All of us. Come over for dinner on
Sunday, six o'clock."
"Yes, sir."
"Clark said something to the effect that he was going through some changes too.
I think we need to talk about what's been going on."
"Of course." He cleared his throat. "Am I allowed to see him until then?"
Surprisingly, Jonathan nodded. "He's not grounded. I would just appreciate it
if you would discourage him from coming over at night. That is ... unless he
gets violent."
"He's not hurting me, Mr. Kent," Lex sighed in exasperation.
Jonathan didn't answer.
"I will" he promised.
"Ok." He ran a hand through his hair. "I should go."
"I ... I'm sorry."
He sighed again, and shook Lex's hand tentatively. "Well, what's done is done.
I'll see you Sunday." With one last sigh, Jonathan Kent left.
"Shit," Lex swore, running his hand over his skull. "Shit, shit, shit." He went
to his bed and flopped down. "I didn't mean to tell him," he moaned into the
comforter, which still smelled of Clark and sex.
But now Jonathan knew. And he trusted Lex even less than he had before.
"If that's even possible," he said, rolling onto his back.
There was a knock on his door.
"What?" Lex shouted crankily.
"Are you coming down to breakfast?" Victoria crooned through the door.
"Depends. Are you going to wear your bathing suit again, or will you put a robe
on?"
He could hear her smiling. "Well, which would you prefer?"
Sighing, Lex closed his eyes. He could picture her standing in the hall,
dripping and half-naked. Once alluring, now mildly repulsive.
"You know how hard it is for me to see you half-naked and not touch you,
Victoria."
She sighed. "Very well. I'll see you in a few minutes."
"Wonderful," Lex said dryly. Sitting back up, he pulled the collar out of his
pocket. For a moment, he simply gazed at it, a dopey smile spreading over his
face despite his problems. Fastening it around his neck, he pulled the
turtleneck over the collar, hiding it. "Time for breakfast."
***
Martha was folding clothes, trying not to be angry at Clark. He son was going
through changes; she had to be understanding. Jonathan had told her what Clark
had said and Martha ... Martha couldn't be angry at her baby. He couldn't sleep
and was scared. She had to understand.
But ... she was still angry. It was easy to think rationally, but impossible to
feel rational sometimes. Such as when her son was growing up.
He didn't need her anymore. Or, at least, he didn't want her anymore. Martha
wasn't sure what hurt worse. In a way it didn't matter; in both cases, Clark
was running from her to be with Lex. And she hated that. Hated Lex for being
what her son needed and hated Clark ...
But she didn't. And she knew that she didn't. Didn't hate either one of them.
It still hurt.
Sighing, she folded one of Clark's shirts, smoothing her hands over the fabric
lovingly.
The door opened and her husband, looking pale and drained, walked in.
"How did it go? Jonathan?"
Without answering, without even really seeing her, Jonathan walked through the
kitchen and upstairs.
Putting the shirt down, Martha rushed after him. "What happened?" she demanded,
finding him in the bathroom.
Jonathan was splashing water on his face. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his
head, he met her eyes in the mirror. "He knows."
"What?"
"Lex knows."
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what he must mean. "He knows?
About Clark? Did Clark tell him?"
"Lex says he didn't. That he just figured it out. But I ... This is bad."
Rubbing her eyes, Martha shook her head. "Maybe it doesn't have to be."
"Right. Maybe. And maybe Lionel Luthor is a humanitarian."
"Lex isn't Lionel. He loves Clark."
"I know. But he's still ... not one of us. Not one of our family."
Leaning against the doorframe, she sighed. Because this was the crux of the
problem: Lex's relation with the family. They weren't a normal family, no
matter how hard they pretended that they were. To protect Clark and Clark's
secret, Jonathan and Martha had been forced to isolate themselves as much as
they could without seeming rude.
But Lex ... wouldn't let Clark hide. He was important to Clark ... very
important. And now he knew Clark's secret. Just like one of the ... family.
She sighed again. "I think ... I think that maybe he is."
"No."
"Jonathan ..."
He shook his head, eyes hard. "I will not let him take away Clark. Not my son."
Sighing, Martha went to him. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she said, "I
trust Lex with Clark. I think I may be able to trust him with Clark's secret.
He loves our son. And, in a way, he has taken Clark away from us. He's changed
Clark ..."
"And that's why ..."
"The same way I changed you. Or anyone who ever loves someone changes them.
Clark is growing up very fast and Lex has a lot to do with that. Not
everything; he's been through a lot lately, and in order to deal with it all,
Clark's had to grow up. Lex has been with him through almost everything , and I
think it's helped. Both of them; they are good for each other." She sighed
again. "And if he knows about Clark, well ... then he knows. We've gotten
through challenges before, and we'll get through this one."
Wearily, Jonathan rubbed his eyes. "I just ... it's so hard to trust him. Trust
anyone with Clark."
Putting her arms around Jonathan, she hugged him tightly. "Yes," Martha
whispered. "I know."
***
"Trust me, Clark; our friendship will be the stuff of legends," Lex said.
Clark looked at him and smirked. "Friendship, Lex?"
He shrugged. "Well, our romance would be too, but with the way the world views
same-sex relationships, it either won't be told, or you'll get changed into a
girl."
"Why me?" Clark exclaimed.
"Because you have more hair than I do."
Snorting, Clark shook his head. "I don't know, Lex. I've imagined you in a
dress. You're pretty hot."
Lex's mouth fell open. "You have not," he said almost challengingly.
Clark smiled smugly.
"Brat."
Winding his arms around Lex, Clark pulled the smaller man against him. "I was
only wondering what you'd look like. And it was a very ... fun fantasy."
"You'll have to share it with me sometime." Lex nuzzled under Clark's jaw.
"Mmmmm, only if you act it out."
"What makes you think I'd agree to that?"
"One, because you want to get laid," Clark said, sliding his knee between Lex's
thighs. "And two, because you are so secure in your masculinity." He kissed
Lex. "I still can't believe you wore the collar to the Beanery the other day. I
was so hot when I saw it."
Lex grinned, flicking his tongue out to taste Clark's skin. "So my plan worked
perfectly. Except for the fact we couldn't slip off and play."
"We had a farm to save. And a mutant to stop."
Lex sighed, running his hand gently over Clark's back. "Yeah. Just another week
in Smallville."
Clark nipped his ear. "If we're allowed to see each other after tonight ..."
"We will," Lex said confidently.
"Yeah, but if we're allowed to see each other long enough to get kinky, can I
tie you up sometime?"
Lex nodded. "Of course. But aren't you due to be tied up? I believe I promised
leather handcuffs and chains."
Clark tuned warm and thrust his hips lightly into Lex's pelvis. "You know what?
This conversation was a really bad idea to have right now."
Groin stirring, Lex nodded, rubbing his cheek against Clark's face. "I agree."
Trailing kisses over Lex's forehead, Clark asked, "Is it normal to want to
collar you, but still have you tie me up and tell me what to do?"
Sensing his lover's uncertainty, Lex ran his fingers through Clark's hair. "Do
me a favor: stop asking what's normal in sex and relationships. There is no
normal. There's only what's right for you and me. And if we want to switch
roles, then that's what we'll do. Ok?"
"Ok," Clark nodded, looking relieved. "Except ... is it nor ... is it ok that I
marked you? That I wanted to do it so badly? Make you know that you were mine?"
Ignoring that Clark was still asking for relationship norms, and focusing on
the fact he needed reassurance, Lex responded, "Of course." He ran his hand
down Clark's back, hand coming to a rest beneath the waistband of his jeans.
"Do you ever feel like that?"
Lex shook his head slowly. "No. Not really. I mean, a few times I've gotten
rough or have tried to punish the person I'm with by marking them or teasing
them, I've never needed to." Then, on seeing the crestfallen expression in
Clark's eyes, Lex shook his head, kissing Clark on the cheek. "No, angel, don't
get upset. Just because I don't get that way, doesn't mean that humans don't.
What happened the other night doesn't have to be because you're not human."
"I was just so intent on claiming you. I don't know if I would have stopped."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"But it might."
Lex shrugged. "I won't deny the thought crossed my mind. When you pinned me to
the headboard and ripped my shirt open, your eyes were so ... different."
"Not human, you mean."
He sighed; the most accurate word was 'alien', but he didn't need Clark to have
a nervous breakdown five minutes before they went to supper with his parents.
"Yes," he agreed. "The expression wasn't quite human. But that doesn't mean ...
Clark," he protested when Clark pulled away. "Clark, it's ok."
"No. It's not," Clark shot back, going to the couch. Flopping down onto it, he
sighed. "Look, maybe all this is a big mistake. I mean, maybe my dad's right
and I just ... if I can't keep myself together when I'm with someone -
especially with someone I love - maybe I should just be alone. It'd be easier
on all of us, right?"
"Wrong. And when did your father say that?" Lex asked, sitting on the couch
next to Clark.
He sighed. "Well, he hasn't in so many words. But I know how he is. I still
have a note that permanently excuses me from playing any type of contact sports
during gym. I can do running or climbing or whatever, but if we're playing
basketball or even baseball, I'm not allowed to play. Can you imagine what he'd
do or say if he finds out that you have a tendency to get bruised when we're
together? And worse, that I seem to be doing it on purpose so I can mark you?
Christ, I sound like an animal."
"No, you don't. Some people are like that. They get possessive when they're in
love, and they want to mark the other person. It's not as if you trying to keep
me locked in a room or anything; you just want to see evidence that we're
together. And that's fine as long as the evidence isn't on my face or head, and
doesn't involve surgery or broken bones."
"I'd never hurt you like that, Lex. No matter how possessive I got," Clark told
him, meeting his eyes.
Lex nodded. "I know." He took Clark's hand and squeezed it. "Now, as for your
father, this really isn't any of his business. This is our sex life, and he has
no right to interfere."
"But he's kept me safe."
"And raised you, I know. That still doesn't mean he has the right to interfere
in your private life. Not like this. Not when I'm not complaining. And I'm not,
Clark. I ... I liked it when you put the collar on me, and bruised me. And
fucked me so hard, it was uncomfortable to sit the next day. If you start
regretting it or doubting what we did ... then it's like you're trying to take
that night away from me. And I don't want you to do that. So don't worry about
him and what he said or you think he'll say. This is our relationship."
Clark nodded, chewing on his lower lip. "Our relationship. Are you going to
tell them that?"
Shrugging, Lex answered, "If it comes up. I'm hoping it won't. But, yes. I
will."
He smiled. "Good."
Leaning down, Lex kissed him, their lips moving slowly over one another,
tongues caressing. Clark's hand ran up Lex's back, caressing his skin through
the fabric of Lex's shirt. Fingers dancing along Lex's spine, Clark pulled him
closer, as if trying to merge their bodies together.
"Clark! Lex! Dinner!" Martha called up the stairs.
Pulling away from Lex, but holding his head in place so Clark could gaze into
his eyes, Clark called back "We're coming, Mom. Thanks." Raising an eyebrow, he
asked, "You ready?"
Lex shook his head. "Not really."
"Me neither. Let's go."
***
Lex had never eaten with anyone like the Kents. All his meals with childhood
friends - if they could be called that - were as formal as meals at his home.
The family sat down together, servants brought the meal in courses, grace was
usually said for show rather than true belief, and any discussions held were
done in soft tones on appropriate subjects.
His mother and father had shared polite conversation during family meals. She
would ask about his day at work, he would give the briefest of brief details,
she would talk about her activities, and no one spoke to Lex. His father had
stated early on that Lex's voice was bad for his digestion. It wasn't until he
began rebelling that Lex began talking during meals.
The first time he'd had supper with the Kents, he'd been uncomfortable. It
wasn't that their casual meal style offended him as Jonathan tried to suggest,
but because Lex hadn't known what he was supposed to do. His inclination was
either to be silent and let them talk, ask polite yet formal questions of his
hosts, or hide beneath his breeding.
None was very comfortable nor, as he discovered, correct.
The Kents talked during supper. Whole conversations were carried out and
everyone was expected to participate, not by rule but by mutual consent.
Opinions were asked and challenged, feelings were talked about, and issues were
discussed.
So, when Jonathan invited Lex to dinner to talk about Clark sneaking over, Lex
knew to that it meant they would be talking over dinner. Not before, not after,
but during.
At least it would give everyone a chance to hide behind their food.
"What would you like to drink, boys?" Martha asked as they entered the house.
"Milk," Clark said immediately.
"Lex? We have milk, soda, and orange juice."
"Milk is fine, thank you," he answered.
Clark snorted.
"What?"
"I've never seen you drink milk. It's too wholesome for you. I think you should
stick with orange juice."
For some reason, the idea of drinking orange juice in front of Clark's parents
made Lex queasy. "No, that's fine, thanks. Did you set my place again?" he
asked, seeing one place setting that was incorrect.
"I set the whole table, and I made yours left-handed accessible," Clark said
proudly.
Smiling, Lex dropped into his seat. "I can use my right hand to eat. Besides,
it doesn't matter if I'm left handed or not, all the silverware is supposed to
be set the same way."
Martha put a glass of milk in front of him. "Yes, Clark, it is. I can't believe
you forgot that, considering how very formal we are here."
Lex tried not to flush. "I was just saying ..."
"I'm teasing you, Lex. Don't worry."
"Dinner ready?" Jonathan asked, walking inside.
Martha turned and nodded. "I just need to take the chicken out of the oven.
Have you washed your hands?"
"I'll do that now, dear," he said mock-meekly, walking to the kitchen sink. He
stopped when he saw Lex and stared at him warily. "Lex," he finally said.
"Hello, Mr. Kent," Lex responded, rising from his seat. He and Jonathan had
spoken on the phone about him knowing Clark's secret a few days before. They
had called a truce, with Lex swearing numerous times that he would not hurt
Clark nor tell anyone else about him. When they had hung up, Jonathan had
seemed a bit more relaxed. A few days later when Clark had stayed to help Lex
with the concussion he'd received from Jeff Palmer, Jonathan had even seemed
... friendly.
But things changed.
Taking a deep breath, Jonathan smiled. "Glad you finally made it," he said, his
voice taking on a friendlier tone. "How have you been feeling?"
With a silent sigh of relief, Lex nodded. "Fine, thank you sir. The concussion
was pretty mild as they go, although it didn't feel that way."
"You acted like you were about to die," Clark put in. "By ten am, he kept
yelling at me for asking him what his name was and that was only the fifth hour
of Lex Watch."
Lex snorted. "I can't believe you gave it a name. No one has ever done that, no
matter how many times I've gotten sick."
Clark socked him lightly on the shoulder. "Just wanted to make it more fun. And
it would have been fun, if you hadn't cheated at Scrabble."
"I did not."
"Yes, you did. I looked it up; fnneeibl is not a word."
Clucking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, Martha sat a platter of chicken
in the center of the table. "Really, Lex; being injured does not give you the
right to cheat."
"It's not my fault!" Lex exclaimed. "He was winning and I didn't feel well.
He's the one who memorized the dictionary."
"I didn't mean to! I was just looking through it."
Lex watched from under his lashes as Jonathan and Martha exchanged glances.
Martha had called Lex soon after he'd accidentally told Jonathan that he knew.
She made fewer death threats - or any threats for that matter - and treated him
with more dignity. Of course, she was a mother, and even though she wasn't
Lex's mother, he didn't want to risk her disappointment. It would be like
disappointing his own mother.
Under the table, Lex caressed the face of his watch.
He actually felt better that the Kents knew. Before it had all been on him, the
responsibility of getting Clark to be comfortable with what he was. And Lex
wasn't allowed to say the word. With Clark's parents on board ... things would
be better. They would make things better.
Jonathan sat down. "Well, I'm glad you're feeling all right."
"You haven't been sick lately, either?" Martha asked, sitting down and picking
up a bowl of vegetables.
"Uh, no," he replied, a bit thrown by her question.
"I'm sorry," she apologized quickly. "Clark's told me about your troubles in
the past, and I've talked to your cook as well. I've been worried, even though
we seem to be having a rather mild winter."
"Believe me, everyone is worried. Actually, my doctor is confused because I
haven't been sick. He's set up another physical in a few weeks, just to see
what's going on."
Clark snorted, putting some chicken on his plate. "You're the only person I
know who gets worried when he doesn't get sick."
"I'm not worried. I'm thrilled," Lex told him, watching as Clark place a
chicken breast on Lex's plate. "Everyone is a bit hypersensitive because I'm
not following my pattern. I always get sick during winter. The doctor told me
that since I was so sick last year, that I may have some slight complications
this year, especially with the move. But I'm fine. Better than fine, in face. I
haven't even had the sniffles since December. Even my asthma's died down,
except for a few panic attacks. My doctor thinks something else might be going
on. That I haven't suddenly gotten stronger, but something else has affected
me."
"Could it be the meteor rocks?" Jonathan suggested, lifting his fork to his
mouth.
Lex frowned and shook his head. "I don't ... think so. I don't spend too much
time around them."
Brow furrowed and looking upset, Clark began spooning vegetables on Lex's
plate.
"Then I ... I hope this is a good sign," Jonathan said, sounding almost
sincere.
He blinked. "Uh, thanks." Clearing his throat, Lex touched the back of Clark's
hand. "Clark, thanks. That's enough."
Flushing, Clark put the bowl down. "Sorry."
"No, it's ok."
Martha looked amused. "Does he always take care of you like that?"
Clark and Lex exchanged looks.
"No," Lex said slowly. "Not really. Not when I'm well, that is. He gets a bit
over protective when I'm sick, but this is ... new."
"No, I ..." Clark protested weakly. "It's because you were talking about being
sick."
Lex shrugged. "Well, maybe."
"No, really," he insisted firmly. Tearing off a piece of his chicken, Clark
shoved it in his mouth. "I'm fine."
"You said you were feeling different," Jonathan said.
"That has nothing to do with feeling different."
"Maybe it does," Martha said. "Part of the reason you've been behaving
differently recently is because of Lex and your feelings for him. Maybe trying
to take care of him is part of it."
He flushed. "You take care of Dad."
"I don't put food on his plate."
"No. Because he sits across from you and it'd be really awkward." He grinned
and the tension broke.
Sensing that Clark was ready to talk, Jonathan leaned forward. "What's going
on? Why are you sneaking out at night?"
He shrugged. "I just ... I have problems sleeping, and Lex helps me relax."
Three throats cleared and six eyes were suddenly fastened firmly on their food.
Clark turned red. "That's not what I meant!" he exclaimed. "I just ...
sometimes I get really ... itchy I guess. My skin crawls and my mind won't stop
moving, and my stomach gets queasy and I just can't make it stop. He makes that
go away, just by being with me. I just ... calm down."
"Why haven't you told us about this?" Martha asked.
"I didn't want to worry you." He sighed. "When I had those nightmares when I
was a kid ... you couldn't really help me then. Why should it be different
now?"
"Does it feel the same?" asked Jonathan. "You had some ... well." He looked at
his wife. "These are basically the same symptoms, right?"
She nodded. "They sound the same. Clark?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Except, this isn't every night like it was then. Just a few
times a week. And when I start feeling like that, I have a nightmare. Or I
can't sleep, like the dream is pushing against my brain and not letting me calm
down." He licked his lips, eyes fastened on his plate. "Lex is the only thing
that helps me sleep and I ... I didn't want to worry you."
"But we're your parents, Clark." Jonathan picked up a roll from the basket in
the middle of the table and tossed it from hand to hand. "If we don't know
these things, we can't help."
"And while we understand that you're growing up, and have a life that's
separate from us, there are some things that we need to know. If you had told
us what you were feeling, maybe we could have found a way to help you before
you had to resort to sneaking off to Lex's in the middle of the night," Martha
said.
Clark tore another piece of chicken off. "I swear that I never meant to go to
Lex's those nights. Well, maybe the night right after Phelan was k-killed. But
not the other night. I couldn't sleep, was feeling weird and, suddenly, I was
at Lex's. I didn't even think about it. And ever since you asked me to stay
home, I've gone over three times, but have made myself turn back."
Coughing slightly, Lex lifted his drink to his mouth. Apparently Clark had
stronger will power than he did; if Lex had been put in a situation where he
had to turn away from Clark, he would never have the strength to say no.
Martha was frowning. "You really don't think about going over?"
"No, I swear." He lifted his eyes, sincerity and worry shining in the blue
depths.
Cutting his chicken, Lex thought about it. "Do you think as fast as you move?"
he asked finally.
Clark blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You move ... fast. Faster than humans can see."
"Yeah, I know."
"Can you think that fast?"
He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I don't think so; I
guess I could try, but ... no. Not normally. Why?"
Swallowing his mouthful, Lex leaned forward. "I think what is happening is that
you're moving faster than you're thinking."
Martha pursed her lips. "What do you mean, Lex?"
He glanced at her. "He knows I make him feel better; we don't know why yet, but
I do. He starts feeling anxious and wants to be with me. He does think about
going to the castle, but he doesn't fully articulate the thought. He probably
begins to think it, then starts running. When he stops - and before he finishes
the thought - he's at my house."
"And then he doesn't need to finish the thought because he's there," Jonathan
finished for Lex.
"Or, the thought changes from 'I'm going to Lex's,' to 'I'm at Lex's.' So," Lex
turned back to Clark. "You are thinking about going to my house, you just
outrace the thought."
Clark looked thoughtful. He ate a forkful of vegetables. "So," he asked after
swallowing, "you don't think that it's because I'm ... I'm changing?"
Lex thought about it, then shook his head. "Well," he corrected himself. "Not
completely. I do think that there's something else going on with your behavior,
but the reason you can't remember intending to go to my place is because of the
discrepancy between thinking and moving."
"But what about the way I'm feeling physically? Is that because there's
something ... not human going on with me, or because of ... what?"
"Maybe it's another growth spurt," Jonathan suggested. "You were a bit antsy
last year when you shot up."
He shook his head. "I felt weird, but not like this. That felt more like my
bones and muscles were too big for my skin. This is like ... my skin and
stomach are trying to crawl away from my body."
"Maybe it's stress," Lex said, taking a bite of his chicken.
Clark looked skeptical. "No. Stress is ... different. It's mental."
"Not if you're repressing feelings, which you are. Stress can manifest itself
physically; that's why I get so many headaches. When I'm really stressed, my
stomach hurts too. If it's not too late at night, or if it gets too bad, I work
out. Usually I run, and work off the stress that way. You ... uh," he broke
off, pretending he wasn't blushing.
Clark turned red too. "Oh. Right."
"Is there, uh," Jonathan said with his eyes his plate, "any way you think you
can work off stress without running to Lex's?"
Frustration crossing his face, Clark sighed. "I don't know. I run and I stop
when I get to his house. If I ran as far as I probably needed, I'd be out of
the state in a matter of minutes."
"I don't think something as simple as working out is going to help him, at
least not for everything," Lex said. "Some of it is stress, yes. Clark's going
through a lot right now, and he's trying to hide all of it inside him. That's
part of the problem. The rest ... well, the last couple weeks, he's been acting
differently."
"How?" Martha asked.
Lex took a sip of his milk. "Clark's getting very possessive and ... I want to
say jealous, but I think it goes beyond that. Yes, he's jealous of Victoria,
but it's reading differently to me. Until he gets what he wants he's ...
different." Lex suddenly felt helpless to explain what he meant. Meeting
Clark's eyes, he shrugged. "Different. You know what I mean."
"Yeah," Clark said softly, touching Lex's knee under that table. "I do."
Jonathan cleared his throat. "And that's why ..." He trailed off, looking
embarrassed.
Swallowing, Lex said softly, "I want to state for the record that Clark's and
my sex life is off limits for discussion. Yes, I skirted close to it just now,
but that's as close as I'm getting. We aren't talking about it."
"Lex ..."
"Mr. Kent, I know you are worried." He looked up and met Jonathan's eyes.
"You've spent your life worrying about Clark and how he interacts with other
people. But you've raised a good kid. A good person, and you don't have to
worry. He's not going to hurt anyone, and the more you try and check up on him,
the more you are going to undermine his confidence in himself. And, as I found
out the hard way, the most important factor to Clark controlling his powers
isn't teaching him how, it's trusting that he knows how. Clark can be trusted,
with other people, and with me. And I can be trusted to make my own decisions.
Our sex life is none of your business."
"Lex ..."
"Jonathan," Martha interrupted. "He's right. Let it alone."
He looked like he still wanted to argue, but he sighed and nodded. "Very well."
"Thank you," Lex sighed, squeezing Clark's knee. "Now, back to the issue. Clark
is different when he's with me. But the differences I'm talking about, except
for him coming over, aren't important now. They're private. I do, however,
think there may be a connection between these changes and the fact that he
keeps running over. It's stress prompted by unconscious thoughts, but it's also
jealousy and a need to be connected with me. Physically connected; you must
know how well he responds to touch."
Martha was nodding. "Yes, he's always been very physically affectionate.
Touching and hugging him would always calm him down, unless he was having those
nightmares."
"And I can do that for him all night. And because I'm his boyfriend, I'm
becoming the one he turns to first."
"But he can't have you every night," she responded. "He needs to be home during
the school week, whether he likes it or not." She turned to Clark. "Whether
you're having trouble sleeping or not. I wouldn't feel right having you go over
there after your chores at night, then rush back to do your chores and eat
breakfast, then go to school and start all over. It seems like it'd be even
more stressful than your life is now, especially if you combine that with
whatever mutant or dirty cop or whatever hits us next."
Clark sighed. "I guess I get that, but ... he calms me down. We're connected,
and nothing ..." He stopped abruptly, a thought crossing quite visibly over his
face. He flushed, then looked angry. Setting his jaw, he finished, "Nothing
else makes me feel like that."
Except now they all knew he was lying.
"Clark?" Jonathan asked, leaning forward. "What aren't you telling us?"
"Nothing," Clark mumbled, shoving chicken in his mouth.
Martha tried next. "Clark? Just tell us, we won't be mad."
He shook his head.
Clark? What's going on?
Nothing. Get out of my mind.
The ship suddenly floated into Lex's mind and he knew what was going on.
"Tell us, Clark," Lex said out loud. His voice was stern; internally, he prayed
that Clark wouldn't break.
"I don't want to."
"You have to get it out of you, Clark; it's tearing you apart. It's not going
to kill you if you say it."
"But ..."
"Do it."
Clark took a deep breath. "M .... The ship," he finally whispered. Then he
squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep, hitching breath.
There was a long silence before Martha cleared her throat. "Your ship makes you
feel calmer."
Clark turned to stone.
Lex sighed and massaged Clark's neck. "It's ok, Clark."
"No," he whispered.
Lex exchanged helpless looks with Martha and Jonathan as he pulled Clark
against his shoulder. "Clark," he whispered in Clark's ear. "It's ok. I know."
He didn't respond.
"Clark?" Jonathan asked quietly, "Are you having problems with being an alien?"
"I'm not ..." he broke off.
"Yes, you are," Lex told him, running his hands through Clark's hair.
Clark didn't respond.
Suddenly, Martha was out of her chair, holding Clark's head to her breast.
"Honey, why didn't you tell us this was bothering you so much?"
Clark shook his head, hiding his face. "I didn't want to disappoint you," was
his muffled answer.
"Disappoint us?' Jonathan repeated.
He turned his face, resting his head on Lex's shoulder while Martha continued
to stroke his hair. "You used to get so disappointed in me when I was upset
about things. And I just didn't want you to think that I couldn't handle this.
I wanted you to think I was strong. Besides, you acted like it was no big deal,
so I didn't want ... didn't want to make it a big deal."
"We didn't make a big deal out of it because we didn't want to scare you. But
you were allowed to react and feel however you wanted to."
Clark snorted.
"Clark," Martha protested. "When have we ever told you that you couldn't be
disappointed in something?"
"How about when I couldn't join Little League? Or that time you took me to the
park, then made me leave when the other kids came? Or when I couldn't go to
school until I was in fifth grade? Or when I couldn't make it to Lana's party
because I was too busy saving Pete? You always tell me that these small things
don't matter so I shouldn't be upset. That I'm meant for bigger things? Why
should this be any different. You just said 'Son, you're an ..." He swallowed
hard, closing his eyes. "An al ... alien ..." He broke off, gasping for breath.
"Clark ..." Martha started, but Lex cut her off with a shake of his head.
"Let him talk."
Taking fistfuls of Lex's shirt, Clark leaned in, breathing heavily. His
shoulders were shaking, body trembling as he pushed himself against Lex. Hiding
his face from his parents, Clark buried his face in Lex's neck, lips pressed
against Lex's neck.
You ok?
Don't talk to me. Just ... just give me a moment.
Nodding to the unspoken request, Lex kissed Clark's hair, then tilted his head
back. Clark immediately bit him, not hard, just enough for Lex to feel, and
sucked on the skin.
Lex tried not to blush as he ran his hand down Clark's back. He could see
Martha blushing and averting her eyes, while Jonathan looked both angry and
uncomfortable.
With one last nip, Clark pulled away. "I'm an alien. But I thought that it
wasn't supposed to matter because ... because it didn't mean anything was
different. I was still the guy who was forced to stay on the sidelines and hide
because he might hurt everyone else. The guy who loved his parents and followed
the rules, who got good grades, and was best friends with a girl. Still just
Clark Kent, and nothing else mattered." His eyes filmed over with tears. "But
it did. It does. Because everything is different and I just. Don't.
Understand."
Martha and Jonathan were silent for a long time. Lex didn't think he'd seen
anyone look so guilty in his life. Sighing, he put his hand over Clark's hand,
which was currently clenching his shirt.
"I'm sorry, angel," he said softly. "I knew how much trouble you were having
dealing with this; I should have said something. But I was afraid and ... and I
was selfish. I didn't want to share what we have with anyone, not even your
parents. I ...I ...was wrong." He licked his lips. "In your parents' defense,
they thought they were doing the right thing. And I'm sure they never meant to
say that you shouldn't feel bad about everything. Or even that you shouldn't
feel bad; just that you shouldn't dwell on negative feelings."
"Lex is right, Clark," Jonathan told him. "We meant that you shouldn't wallow
in misery just because you're different. You're special. But we never meant
that you weren't allowed to feel bad about things."
Clark frowned. "Really? I can ... feel bad and you won't be disappointed in
me?"
"Clark. We could never be disappointed in you."
"Oh," he said softly. "I always thought I had to hide it. And I'd feel guilty
sometimes if I let things get to me. Like I was letting you down."
"You have the right to feel what you feel, without letting other people dictate
your feelings to you," Martha said firmly. Dropping a kiss on his head, she
went back to her seat. "You need to learn that, and how to deal with your
feelings before they make you too anxious."
"But how? I mean, you can tell me to talk about them, but sometimes I just ...
there are some things I want to keep private. I'm not perfect; I get angry at
you or people and I don't always want you to know about it. Even you," he
added, glancing at Lex.
Martha pursed her lips. "Well, why don't you try keeping a journal? That way
you can get the feelings out, but they're still private unless you want to
share."
Clark looked skeptical. "I don' t know ..."
"It's worth a try, Clark. I've been told to do the same thing," Lex said. "It's
supposed to help with stress."
"Have you done it?"
Shaking his head, Lex replied, "Well, no, but I don't take advice from many
people. But I really think it would help. It might ease the nightmares."
Clark sighed and turned back to his plate. "Yeah. Maybe." Spearing a string
bean, he asked, "Why do you think the ship calms me down? I mean, Lex is alive
and can talk to me and make me feel comfortable; the ship is just ... a piece
of metal."
"Maybe it's because it's part of you," Lex suggested. "Since you come from the
same planet, you have a connection with it. It ... speaks to you on some
subconscious or unconscious level." He took a deep breath, darting a glance at
Jonathan. "If you like, I can do some tests. See what your heart rate and brain
waves do when you're alone, with me, and with the ship. See if there's any
correlation. But I won't if any of you have doubts." He managed to get the last
part out, as much as it pained him to say it. He really _didn't_ want to run
tests on Clark, but ... but he was an alien. And unknown and Lex was one of the
only people in the world who knew. It was hard to resist.
Jonathan was shaking his head. "This is why I don't want people to know. Didn't
want you to know."
"Mr. Kent, I'm only suggesting it to help Clark, not to experiment on him."
"And yet, you'd be experimenting on him!"
"No! I ... only to see if there's something in the ship or me that is affecting
him in some way, or if it's all just mental."
"No," Jonathan said firmly. "No one is doing any experiments on my son."
"I ..." Clark started softly.
"What, Clark?" Lex asked, squeezing his knee.
Clark looked at Lex, eyes scared. "I don't want to know."
"What?"
"Anything. If I know, then it's real."
Martha cleared her throat. "Jonathan. Maybe we should let Lex ..."
"No," Clark and Lex said at the same time.
Clark looked surprised.
"No, Clark," Lex said. "If you're not ready, then I won't force you. But I
think it should be your decision." The last was directed at Jonathan. "We are
talking about him."
Jonathan sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Fine. Clark, if you ever want this man to
run experiments on you, that's up to you. I'll keep out of it."
Looking at his plate, Clark nodded.
"I think it might help you, Clark. Help you understand who you are, what you
are, and how you work. But I'm not going to do anything unless you want me to."
"Thank you."
Martha picked up her drink glass, swishing the liquid inside. "I don't suppose
that you want to try resting on your ship when you get too anxious, do you
Clark?"
He shook his head. "No. I ... not yet. Please."
"We're not going to force you into anything you're not ready for, son,"
Jonathan soothed. He sighed. "We simply can't allow you to go over to Lex's
house during the week. It's not only stretching the limits of propriety, but
you are fifteen, you're going to school, and you have chores to do. I know you
don't get tired easily, but that's just too much."
"And," Martha added, "he's still underage. We're all in a very precarious
position, here."
"It's a stupid law," Clark stated.
"Maybe so, but it's designed to protect people from having to grow up too fast.
And from being taken advantage of," she told him.
"I need Lex."
Martha closed her eyes. "No, Clark. You don't. You don't need anyone. He just
makes you feel better. And maybe you are ready for this kind of very serious
relationship. Maybe for you it is normal. But we are all still bound by human
laws, and legally, you are fifteen until May first. Even once he's over the age
of consent, we still have to be discreet."
Clark frowned. "If I can't spend the night with him, what do I have to be
discreet about?"
"You're relationship, for one," Martha said bluntly. "I don't know who knows
about the two of you, but you can't tell anyone you like."
"Damien and Mabel both know," Lex said. "But neither will tell anyone."
"Your dad," Clark added.
"And Chloe and Lana," finished Lex. "Other than that, it's just us. And we're
not going to tell anyone. I understand the need for discretion; I really don't
want to be arrested for being in love with Clark. But, all in all, we are
pretty discreet. He slips in the back way, leaves without making a fuss. Only
Mabel and Damien live in the house, and I'm not inviting any other staff to
live on the grounds. When I get new house managers, I'll put them up in town
and schedule specific hours for them to be at the mansion. We're pretty safe
there."
"Unless someone decided to talk," Jonathan said, spearing something on his
plate.
"My staff won't. They are completely loyal." Lex leaned forward. "I understand
why he can't come over on week-nights. But Clark's an amazing person. He's
saving people on a regular basis and not asking for anything in return. He's
behaving exactly as a hero should. Still, I think he deserves something for all
the sacrifices he's making."
"I think so too," Clark said firmly, taking Lex's hand.
Martha and Jonathan exchanged long glances.
It was Martha who finally spoke. "We talked about this before and have decided
to make some modifications to the rules. Your new curfew for weeknights with
Lex is ten o'clock. I know it's only an hour's difference, but we do want you
at home when there isn't danger lurking around."
"And weekends?"
She sighed. "For now, you may spend either Friday or Saturday nights with Lex."
"Not both?" Clark asked, disappointed.
"Not right now. I don't want to rush into anything. Besides, if we go slowly
enough, maybe people won't talk," Martha said.
Lex blinked. "Why would they?"
She smiled. "This is a small town, Lex. It's not like Metropolis. Everyone
wants to know everyone else's business. You have no idea how hard it was to
keep them off the farm when we first brought Clark home. Everyone wanted to see
him, and he was still babbling in a language that we didn't understand. Even
now, we're still viewed as ..."
"Odd," Jonathan finished for her. "People talk about us - not as much as they
used to, but we still get it. Combine us with the town billionaire, and they
will start talking again."
"Unless we go so slowly that they don't notice."
Lex rubbed his forehead. "But, he's my friend. Everyone knows that, and they
don't seem to care. He saved my life."
"Yeah," Clark said to him. Then he turned to his parents. "But, yeah, they do
talk."
"And you're Lex Luthor," Jonathan reminded him. "When you first came, your
first name didn't matter at all; you were just another Luthor. Not everyone
feels the same way about Lionel as I do, but ..."
"People distrust the rich," Lex said in understanding.
Jonathan nodded. "Right. Although, ever since you saved the kids at the plant,
people have been a lot kinder when they talk about you. You're still Mr.
Luthor, but you ..."
"You're our Mr. Luthor," Martha broke in. "But you will quickly lose whatever
ground you gained if people catch on that you and Clark are in a relationship.
Maybe when he's old enough, you two won't care what people think or say, but
right now, you have to be discreet."
Lex took a drink of his milk. "Well," he said after a long moment, "why don't I
spread my attention around a bit? Not have is so focused on Clark."
"I don't want you to see anyone else!" Clark said hotly.
Lex smiled at the vehemence. "I know, Clark. That's not what I meant. You know
how I don't want you giving up your friends for me, and I'm sure your parents
feel the same way."
"Yes, we do," Jonathan said. "We don't want you isolating yourself to be with
Lex."
Martha nodded. "We know you're young and in love, but you need a life outside
of him"
"I agree," Lex said, squeezing Clark's hand. "But that doesn't mean that I
can't be included in a group with your outside friends sometimes too. Chloe and
I get alone well and I can ... tolerate Lana. Why don't I invite them - and
others - over once or twice a month for a movie night or something? Small and
well chaperoned parties. I have the money, the room, and it would take some of
the scrutiny off us."
Martha and Jonathan looked at each other. After a moment, Martha nodded.
"That's not a bad idea."
"I like it," Clark said, lacing his fingers through Lex's. "I can go, right?"
Martha laughed. "Of course. Just make sure nothing happens, Lex. You'll have to
be a role model."
"Don't worry; I know my reputation has preceded me. These parties or whatever
will be strictly PG, and I will make sure of that."
Clark bit his lip. "You guys are ... you're serious about this, right? That I
get to spend the night at his house sometimes?"
"Yes, Clark, we are. You are a very responsible boy. Almost a man; you deserve
some lee way," Martha said, a sad expression in her eyes as she gazed at her
son. "And we're trusting you to be responsible enough to spend the night away,
but still come home and get your chores done at a reasonable time."
Clark's face fell. "Oh. Well, that means I'll have to leave early. I mean, I
have to milk the cows the same time and all."
Jonathan cleared his throat. "Since you'll only be gone one night a week, your
mother and I will take over the chores that need to be done at a certain time.
You can stay with Lex until noon, but when you come back, you have to do
whatever needs to be done."
Smiling, Clark squeezed Lex's hand. "Thanks. This will really ... help," he
trailed off as his expression changed. "I'm not ... I'm not arguing with the
rules, but what about the rest of the week? I get nightmares then too."
"Would it help if you talked to me before you went to bed?' Lex suggested,
cutting his chicken.
Clark thought about it. "Yeah. I think it would. Just to ... to know that
you're there for me."
"And if you have a nightmare, you can call me. Any time."
"I just ... I don't have a phone in my room is all. And I," he glanced at his
parents, a flush on his cheeks, "I'd rather have privacy."
"Cell phone," Lex said right away. "I can get one for you, so you could call me
..."
"No," Jonathan interrupted. "He doesn't need a cell phone."
"But," he protested. "It's really no trouble. And it'd be no expense to you."
Jonathan shook his head. "My answer is no."
Angry, Lex sat back in his seat. "So what do you suggest?'
"We can run a line out to Clark," Jonathan said. "That's no problem."
Rolling his eyes, Lex nodded. That made sense, too, but he wanted to help.
Clark was chewing on his bottom lip. "Ok," he finally said. "I think that will
work."
"And, honey, talk to us too," Martha said. "Tell us what's going on in your
mind: how you feel, what's going on. We're here for you. We love you."
"Yeah," he replied softly. "I love you guys too."
Jonathan reached over and squeezed his son's shoulder. Then, he pulled back.
"Well, that's over. I hope we have the problem solved, but if things don't work
out, talk to us. Both of you, understand?"
The boys nodded. "Yes sir."
"Good. I think this will work out."
"I think so too," Martha seconded.
Nodding, Jonathan smiled. "Well, dinner was productive," he joked, looking
across the table at his wife. "What's for dessert?"
Lex licked his lips and took a deep breath. "Actually ... I have something
more."
"Oh?" Martha prompted.
Feeling dizzy, Lex fastened his eyes on his plate. "For some unknown reason, my
father has decided that he needs to ... to punish you, Mr. Kent. And to do
that, he's going to have Clark taken temporarily away from you."
When no one said anything, Lex forced himself to look up. Jonathan was gazing
at him, a stricken expression on his face.
"I don't know why, sir, he just ... I found this out and I've been working to
..."
"Try and stop him?" Clark asked hopefully.
"No," he replied shaking his head. "I, well, that part is up to you. I have
Clark's adoption papers and all his records, and having them re-done by
professionals. There were a lot of discrepancies and inconsistencies, so I've
been making everything fit."
"How did you get those?" Jonathan finally rasped.
"My father's assistant. He's the one who told me what my father was going to
do."
"Was he going to have Clark kidnapped or ... what?" he asked.
Lex shook his head. "No, not kidnapped. Something riskier, especially
considering that Clark's papers were all faked. He didn't know that, but if I
hadn't found out, it could have been worse. Dad has a lot of influence with the
Metropolis police. Phelan was on his payroll, in fact. But he has other
contacts, and he was going to use one of them to create a kidnapping case
centering on a boy about Clark's age. He was going to make it appear that Clark
might be that boy. When Social Services went to check Clark's file, it would be
conveniently missing, causing them to launch an investigation."
"And Clark would be taken away until they could prove who he was," Martha said.
He nodded. "Yes. Luckily, Dad's assistant is ... he likes me better than Dad,
basically. He took the file from Social Services about a month ago. When he saw
the errors, he handed it over to me."
Martha was rubbing her eyes wearily. "We can't let him do this," she said.
Heart sinking, Lex nodded slowly. He didn't want Clark taken away, but on the
other hand ... if the file was there when Lionel made his move, Dominic would
be caught. And Lex wanted Dominic so he could keep tabs on Lionel for him.
But, it wasn't his decision. "Very well."
"What will happen if ... if they look for my file and find it?" Clark asked
softly. "What will your father do?"
Trying to smile, Lex shook his head. "It's hard to predict with Dad. Don't
worry, angel; I'll handle it."
Clark didn't look soothed. "Will he hurt you?"
He'd been avoiding that thought since the whole thing came up, but the answer
must have shown on his face. Dad didn't beat him, but Dad was losing control.
If he found out what Lex had done ... Dominic would be destroyed and Lex?
Lex would be hurt. Badly.
Seeing the answer in Lex's face, Clark shook his head. "No. I'm not going to
let him do that to you."
"Clark," Lex said, "it's ok. I can take care of myself. And I can handle Dad."
"No. I mean ... I mean they can't take me away permanently, right? You fixed
everything so it looks legal?"
Slowly, Lex nodded.
Clark looked at his parents. "It would just be a few days. Nothing would happen
to me, and nothing would happen to Lex. We know it's coming, so we won't be as
scared. Lex will take care of me."
"Clark, you'll be taken away from you parents. I won't be able to be with you.
They'll probably stick you with foster parents or in a group home. It's not
just going to be overnight; Dad'll need at least two days. He wants your
parents to suffer."
"I don't mind." Clark set his jaw stubbornly. "I trust you." He looked almost
challenging at his parents.
Jonathan and Martha were gazing at each other. Clearing his throat, Jonathan
said, "If he doesn't do this, Lionel will do something worse, won't he?"
Lex nodded reluctantly. "Probably. He could have the farm taken away or ... or
any number of things. This is bad, but it could be a lot worse."
Jonathan sighed. "Then it seems we have no choice."
"There's always a choice, sir."
"No. Not with Lionel. He can try to punish me all he wants, I will not let him
beat me. At least this way we know what's coming. But you have to keep us
informed of everything. Understand?" He fixed Lex with a hard gaze.
"Yes, sir," Lex swore.
"Keep him safe," Martha added.
Clark reached for his hand and squeezed it. Then, as if that contact wasn't
enough, he put his arm around Lex and buried his face in his neck. "I trust
you, Lex."
A wave of helplessness swept over Lex, followed by a rush of resolve. The
Kent's most precious asset was in his hands; he couldn't let them down.
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