Changing Everything Carefully
Aug. 21st, 2003 02:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fajrdrakoThis fic is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
isagel's birthday. It's also for the ee cummings smallville challenge issued by isagel and lyra_sena. I write this too with a tip of the hat to oxoniensis because yesterday she and I were discussing slash fiction about waking up.
I let it all come together, with thanks to ee cummings. The poem this was inspired from (by the rules of the challenge) is Spring is like a perhaps hand.
Have a very happy birthday, Isagel! I hope this piece makes you smile.
~ ~ ~
Changing Everything Carefully
Lex woke alone in his bed on his birthday. A few years ago, when he had hated to be in an empty bed, he made the effort to have someone there beside him on his birthday, a warm sated body to comfort him the ways he liked best. On one birthday, two people.
Time had rearranged his life since then.
He lay thinking about empty beds and empty lives, the events of the past year in Smallville milling around in his mind. He would like to think it had been a good year: he hadn't died, for example, the way he had before last year's birthday.
But death was a good thing, because it brought a new life with it, and he had met Clark Kent.
Clark Kent... was not necessarily entirely a good thing. Clark Kent was like poison oak: beautiful to look at, but not to be touched, and therefore a source of pain.
The fantasy of his touch was enough. It had to be.
His eyes still shut against the morning light streaming in through the window like a reaching hand, Lex thought about the past year. Assessing, he arranged it, compartmentalizing it in his mind, like a window into which people stare: a strange thing and a known thing, placed carefully side by side together in the sunlight.
A strange thing: Clark Kent and the mysteries surrounding him. A boy who could not be hurt (though he denied it) and who could move faster than sight (though he denied that too). An untouchable boy whose eyes burned with unspoken passion, but for what? For whom? To protect people? For justice? For love?
How had he started thinking about Clark again?
Dispassionately assessing the year: Item, one marriage. Murdering bitch. Desiree was gone, locked up, safely tucked away. He never wanted to see her again. Sometimes he remembered the echo of what he had felt, that illusion of passion that wasn't like passion itself, but like something painful and pungent; with that half-glimpsed memory, he missed her touch.
She too had wanted Clark. Oh, she had wanted every man in Smallville, but Clark was the only one of her targeted prey who had eluded her. How? It was another of Clark Kent's mysteries. Having been immune to seduction by Smallville's sexiest woman, he would no doubt be similarly immune to seduction by Smallville's resident millionaire.
No. Think of other things.
Item: LexCorp. Lex's figurehead company, built on desperation and a dream, suborned by his father, reworked, rebuilt. Stakes in the great game he played.
Item: Money. He had more than he had ever accumulated before, flowing gratifyingly from various channels, multiplying itself, feeding off itself, recreating itself in banks in the Caribbean and Geneva and Hong Kong. He was a wealthy man now, in fact as well as appearance. He was more than just the son of a wealthy man.
He thought of the days he had spent at the Kent Farm without a penny to his name. He had been happy then. He had received words of praise from Jonathan Kent, not grudgingly given, and Martha's generous affection. He had Clark's respect. He had thrilled to the physical work, the mastery of new details, working with land and beasts.
He knew he would never be happy on a farm for long, even with Clark there. But for a time, the experience had given him new heart and new hope.
This led directly to the next item of his mental checklist: his relationship with his brother. He wished he could turn back the clock, have Lucas where he had never had Julian, as a companion in childhood to share adventures good and bad. But he had never known Lucas as a boy, and as men they were dangerous, still snarling at each other when they weren't trying to impress. Still, some tenuous respect had built between them.
Lucas might be useful.
No, more important: Lucas might become a real brother.
Item: his relationship with his father. It had its ups and its downs. Currently.... Not up. At least Lionel had regained his sight and strength. It had broken Lex's heart to see his struggling with blindness and lameness and the loneliness of infirmity. At the same time, he knew he couldn't trust the old predator an inch. Lionel cared for nothing but himself and his wealth. It was easier to control him from a distance, staying away from the vulnerability his presence created.
Write off Lionel.
Lex buried his face under his pillow.
Net gains, net losses. The thing he most wanted - no, stop thinking of Clark. He did not have Clark, could not have Clark. Other than that, he had everything he could desire, either in fact or in prospect.
Didn't he?
Carefully out of nowhere a sudden breeze came into the room, though no window had been opened. Another presence. Without lifting the pillow or opening his eyes, Lex said aloud, "Clark?" He could not think of anyone else who could bypass his security, go through gates and walls, and not appear on security cameras.
Besides, he knew it was Clark without looking. He recognized the changed energy in the room.
"Good morning, and happy birthday," said Clark. Lex felt a dip in the bed. Clark's hand touched Lex's bare shoulder, warm fingers resting lightly on warm flesh.
Lex did not ask Clark how he had gotten in. He knew the lies that would come in answer: that he had slipped through the bars of the gate, the door was unlocked, or someone let him in. Instead of asking, Lex savored the touch of skin on skin. Clark did not remove his hand.
Lex said, "Am I dreaming?"
"I don't think so. If you were, what would you be dreaming of? Chocolate cake?"
"I'd be dreaming of you," said Lex. He moved the pillow aside, and rolled over, the sheet wrapping around him at his waist. Sunlight streamed through the window as if to illustrate Clark's angelic grace. Lex took Clark's hand in his, threading their hands together, and kissed Clark's fingers.
Clark blushed, but did not pull his hand back, or move away.
Lex watched his face. "Has something changed?"
"Everything changes, Lex."
Lex reached his other hand to the back of Clark's head and stroked his hair. Silky, feathery, soft, as he had expected. He pulled Clark's head down towards his and kissed Clark's lips. The kiss was bold and expressive and deep.
Clark's fingers tightened on Lex's. His other hand moved to Lex's chest, moved carefully to and fro, moving new and old feelings back and forth, awakening possibilities.
Lex said, "Why?"
"Because it's your birthday. Because... I thought maybe you'd like to have me here. You know. To wake up with and have me with you."
Lex sat up, the silk sheet draped casually over his naked lower body, his arms resting on his knees. "Have you in what way? What exactly are you offering me, Clark?"
Clark blinked, and took a deep breath. "Anything you want."
"I want everything. I think you know that."
"Yeah. Well, that's it, that's what I'm offering. Anything. Everything. Me."
Lex touched Clark's face: two fingers tracing cheekbones, jawline, the soft upper lip, the warm lower lip.
"What changed?"
"I decided not to be afraid."
"What were you afraid of before? Me? Your father? Revealing secrets?"
"I was afraid of breaking something."
"My heart?"
"Your body."
"I'm not afraid," said Lex.
Clark dipped his head, grinning. "No. Sometimes you should be. You're reckless and crazy."
"Look who's talking. Seriously, Clark. I've had lovers enough. It's your life that'll get overturned if... when... if we go any further."
"I'm not afraid," said Clark.
An inch of air lay between them: nothing more. Clark pulled Lex close, and the air smelled of spring and flowers and new possibilities as they kissed and touched and began an unspoken game of arousal. . . .
without breaking anything.
- end -
isagel's birthday. It's also for the ee cummings smallville challenge issued by isagel and lyra_sena. I write this too with a tip of the hat to oxoniensis because yesterday she and I were discussing slash fiction about waking up.I let it all come together, with thanks to ee cummings. The poem this was inspired from (by the rules of the challenge) is Spring is like a perhaps hand.
Have a very happy birthday, Isagel! I hope this piece makes you smile.
~ ~ ~
Changing Everything Carefully
Lex woke alone in his bed on his birthday. A few years ago, when he had hated to be in an empty bed, he made the effort to have someone there beside him on his birthday, a warm sated body to comfort him the ways he liked best. On one birthday, two people.
Time had rearranged his life since then.
He lay thinking about empty beds and empty lives, the events of the past year in Smallville milling around in his mind. He would like to think it had been a good year: he hadn't died, for example, the way he had before last year's birthday.
But death was a good thing, because it brought a new life with it, and he had met Clark Kent.
Clark Kent... was not necessarily entirely a good thing. Clark Kent was like poison oak: beautiful to look at, but not to be touched, and therefore a source of pain.
The fantasy of his touch was enough. It had to be.
His eyes still shut against the morning light streaming in through the window like a reaching hand, Lex thought about the past year. Assessing, he arranged it, compartmentalizing it in his mind, like a window into which people stare: a strange thing and a known thing, placed carefully side by side together in the sunlight.
A strange thing: Clark Kent and the mysteries surrounding him. A boy who could not be hurt (though he denied it) and who could move faster than sight (though he denied that too). An untouchable boy whose eyes burned with unspoken passion, but for what? For whom? To protect people? For justice? For love?
How had he started thinking about Clark again?
Dispassionately assessing the year: Item, one marriage. Murdering bitch. Desiree was gone, locked up, safely tucked away. He never wanted to see her again. Sometimes he remembered the echo of what he had felt, that illusion of passion that wasn't like passion itself, but like something painful and pungent; with that half-glimpsed memory, he missed her touch.
She too had wanted Clark. Oh, she had wanted every man in Smallville, but Clark was the only one of her targeted prey who had eluded her. How? It was another of Clark Kent's mysteries. Having been immune to seduction by Smallville's sexiest woman, he would no doubt be similarly immune to seduction by Smallville's resident millionaire.
No. Think of other things.
Item: LexCorp. Lex's figurehead company, built on desperation and a dream, suborned by his father, reworked, rebuilt. Stakes in the great game he played.
Item: Money. He had more than he had ever accumulated before, flowing gratifyingly from various channels, multiplying itself, feeding off itself, recreating itself in banks in the Caribbean and Geneva and Hong Kong. He was a wealthy man now, in fact as well as appearance. He was more than just the son of a wealthy man.
He thought of the days he had spent at the Kent Farm without a penny to his name. He had been happy then. He had received words of praise from Jonathan Kent, not grudgingly given, and Martha's generous affection. He had Clark's respect. He had thrilled to the physical work, the mastery of new details, working with land and beasts.
He knew he would never be happy on a farm for long, even with Clark there. But for a time, the experience had given him new heart and new hope.
This led directly to the next item of his mental checklist: his relationship with his brother. He wished he could turn back the clock, have Lucas where he had never had Julian, as a companion in childhood to share adventures good and bad. But he had never known Lucas as a boy, and as men they were dangerous, still snarling at each other when they weren't trying to impress. Still, some tenuous respect had built between them.
Lucas might be useful.
No, more important: Lucas might become a real brother.
Item: his relationship with his father. It had its ups and its downs. Currently.... Not up. At least Lionel had regained his sight and strength. It had broken Lex's heart to see his struggling with blindness and lameness and the loneliness of infirmity. At the same time, he knew he couldn't trust the old predator an inch. Lionel cared for nothing but himself and his wealth. It was easier to control him from a distance, staying away from the vulnerability his presence created.
Write off Lionel.
Lex buried his face under his pillow.
Net gains, net losses. The thing he most wanted - no, stop thinking of Clark. He did not have Clark, could not have Clark. Other than that, he had everything he could desire, either in fact or in prospect.
Didn't he?
Carefully out of nowhere a sudden breeze came into the room, though no window had been opened. Another presence. Without lifting the pillow or opening his eyes, Lex said aloud, "Clark?" He could not think of anyone else who could bypass his security, go through gates and walls, and not appear on security cameras.
Besides, he knew it was Clark without looking. He recognized the changed energy in the room.
"Good morning, and happy birthday," said Clark. Lex felt a dip in the bed. Clark's hand touched Lex's bare shoulder, warm fingers resting lightly on warm flesh.
Lex did not ask Clark how he had gotten in. He knew the lies that would come in answer: that he had slipped through the bars of the gate, the door was unlocked, or someone let him in. Instead of asking, Lex savored the touch of skin on skin. Clark did not remove his hand.
Lex said, "Am I dreaming?"
"I don't think so. If you were, what would you be dreaming of? Chocolate cake?"
"I'd be dreaming of you," said Lex. He moved the pillow aside, and rolled over, the sheet wrapping around him at his waist. Sunlight streamed through the window as if to illustrate Clark's angelic grace. Lex took Clark's hand in his, threading their hands together, and kissed Clark's fingers.
Clark blushed, but did not pull his hand back, or move away.
Lex watched his face. "Has something changed?"
"Everything changes, Lex."
Lex reached his other hand to the back of Clark's head and stroked his hair. Silky, feathery, soft, as he had expected. He pulled Clark's head down towards his and kissed Clark's lips. The kiss was bold and expressive and deep.
Clark's fingers tightened on Lex's. His other hand moved to Lex's chest, moved carefully to and fro, moving new and old feelings back and forth, awakening possibilities.
Lex said, "Why?"
"Because it's your birthday. Because... I thought maybe you'd like to have me here. You know. To wake up with and have me with you."
Lex sat up, the silk sheet draped casually over his naked lower body, his arms resting on his knees. "Have you in what way? What exactly are you offering me, Clark?"
Clark blinked, and took a deep breath. "Anything you want."
"I want everything. I think you know that."
"Yeah. Well, that's it, that's what I'm offering. Anything. Everything. Me."
Lex touched Clark's face: two fingers tracing cheekbones, jawline, the soft upper lip, the warm lower lip.
"What changed?"
"I decided not to be afraid."
"What were you afraid of before? Me? Your father? Revealing secrets?"
"I was afraid of breaking something."
"My heart?"
"Your body."
"I'm not afraid," said Lex.
Clark dipped his head, grinning. "No. Sometimes you should be. You're reckless and crazy."
"Look who's talking. Seriously, Clark. I've had lovers enough. It's your life that'll get overturned if... when... if we go any further."
"I'm not afraid," said Clark.
An inch of air lay between them: nothing more. Clark pulled Lex close, and the air smelled of spring and flowers and new possibilities as they kissed and touched and began an unspoken game of arousal. . . .
without breaking anything.
- end -
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 11:48 am (UTC)So true...
Item: his relationship with his father. It had its ups and its downs. Currently.... Not up.
Even truer...
What a lovely Lex-birthday story!
no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 11:57 am (UTC)Birthday stories are fun.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 12:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 12:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 12:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 01:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 01:15 pm (UTC)is concerned.)
no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-21 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-22 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-22 11:28 am (UTC)As I see Lex, he wants to live his life in an organized way, and has various strategies as to how to do it. At the same time he is by nature romantic and impulsive - and this has got him into trouble occasionally. Always a conflict between heart and head - or deaire and better judgement.
Beautiful
Date: 2003-08-22 04:22 pm (UTC)Awww, how nice of Clark to stop being afraid. I liked this.
Thank you for sharing,
Strength and honour,
Atie
Re: Beautiful
Date: 2003-08-23 05:08 am (UTC)I like your 'strength and honour' - it made me start to wonder if Clark was 'strength' and Lex was 'honour' or whether it was the other way round.
Re: Beautiful
Date: 2003-08-23 05:14 am (UTC)Never thought of it that way. Well, since we are falling straight into denialdorm, then I must agree, Clark has all the makings of 'Strength' and with Lex not soooooo soooo bad, then he can be the 'Honour'.
Mind you, it'll be an Honour, that moves to a code that only he and maybe Clark understand.
Thanks and Take care,
Strength and Honour,
Atie
Re: Beautiful
Date: 2003-08-23 05:38 am (UTC)I think Lex has a strong sense of honour; he just has trouble keeping up to his own standards. Clark has the same problem, but less consciously.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-23 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-23 08:41 pm (UTC)Lex is a great guy in my opinion, but sometimes he thinks too much.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-24 02:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-24 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-25 06:41 pm (UTC)Beautifully written.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-25 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 03:25 pm (UTC)I'm making a page for all the fics, so will you send this to me? lyrasena (at) aol.com.
no subject
Date: 2003-09-18 03:29 pm (UTC)