Changing Everything Carefully
Aug. 21st, 2003 02:32 pmThis 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.
( Read more... )
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.
( Read more... )
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