Smallville Big Bang 2013 - Life as a Novel in Progress (post 4/6)
Almost before Clark even knew there was a lover in the picture, he was out of it again. This he found out after the fact from Lois. Until then, he'd been confused and sore of heart and pride by the tongue lashing each encounter with Lex had brought. He still didn’t understand how he had never heard of Bruce until then, when he’d been living with Lex for nearly two months. Up until B-day (Breakup Day) they shared meals and conversation at least once a day four or more days out of the week.
Lex's attitude hadn’t improved at all with Clark's knowledge. "You're looming again, Kent. Sit yourself down or remove yourself," Lex demanded.
Clark backed up quickly, giving Lex space to enter the kitchen properly. They theoretically shared the common areas of kitchen, dining room, living room, and front and back porches, but Lex only ever seemed to leave his rooms to eat and talk to Clark. It had been amazing at first, but lately Clark had tried to time his own meals to miss the other man, given that most of their interactions, like now, were less than pleasant.
He'd tried to be patient and understanding. He knew what breakups were like. But now it looked like Lex was working against him, purposely trying to create a confrontation Clark couldn't avoid.
Since every word he said was then used against him, Clark decided to try the route of silence. It probably wouldn't work either, as Lex could tear him apart for breathing too heavily or too softly, but it was worth the attempt. Maybe it would spark another round of jokes about vows of silence and why dormice were supposed to be so quiet.
"Pretty, simple farm boy with the simple life. Come on, Clark, you fought back against my original expectation that you would be quiet. You’re loud and obnoxious and unavoidable most of the time, so why are you working so hard now to change that?”
That was enough, days and weeks of this had been too much. "I understand that you're angry and you've a right to be, but I have the right not to take it," Clark said softly.
Lex stilled, face devoid of the earlier anger. "Do you know, that's pretty much what I wanted to say to him? With a few more syllables and a great deal more condescension, but that was the gist."
Clark stared at him a moment, not certain if this was an opening for true dialogue or if Lex was setting him up for another whipping. He decided to forge ahead; his metaphorical skin might not be as thick as the real, but it could handle Lex's barbed tongue. "What did you actually say?"
"Mostly, I think I whined about the unfairness. I may have possibly begged for him not to dump me for a bitch who won't ever appreciate him as well as I do." Lex's shoulders dropped, his spine curving as the rigidity left it. "Not a woman, mind, but... a duty."
Clark knew a thing or three about duty, and he answered unthinkingly, "Duty is a hard thing to escape. Expectation."
Lex looked at him, eyes narrowed consideringly. "What if the only expectation is your own? How strong is your duty then?"
"Um." There was no quick answer to that. Clark had been raised with his parents’ expectations, had stumbled upon his birth father's plans by accident. Ruling the world was a far step away from becoming a doctor or taking over the farm eventually, but the weight of it had still settled on his shoulders for over a year. "I think it depends. On how realistic the expectation is. And that's not something any of us can judge when we're trying to live up to it."
"Interesting. So what, do you run your expectations through a third party?" It was almost sarcastic, but there was an edge of interest in Lex’s gaze, something that said he was less interested in venting by tearing Clark apart and more willing to hear him, as he hadn’t been.
"Maybe, I guess? I think everyone needs a balance, a friend. Someone to say, 'Hey, I get what you want here, but you're being unreasonable.'" That was Chloe to him, and it had been since he and Pete had told her Clark’s secrets. Pete alone hadn’t been quite so reasonable; they’d needed someone with more common sense and ability to think strategically than the both of them together.
"Something like that would have to come from a place that wasn't jealousy and hurt, I bet." Lex slumped a bit, just a minor loosening of all his muscles. "And probably shouldn't be thrown along with priceless vases and a statue that could be sold to buy a fleet of Porsches."
"No. If you're trying to save someone from themselves, I think..." Acting like a jealous lover wouldn’t go over well. Clark cleared his throat, knowing the words were written clearly on his face despite biting his tongue.
Lex nodded. "Right. And maybe eventually I'll get to the point where I can remove myself the necessary distance, but right now I'm mad enough to let him run himself down. He might be easier to pin down and shake sense into if he's exhausted. What?"
Clark snapped his mouth closed, then opened it again. "Just be careful. Cornered animals being dangerous, and all."
"Advice on wild animals from the man who was raised milking cows?"
"Not all the animals in Smallville are domesticated and complacent." His high school years weren't a part of his life he really wanted to discuss, given the questions it invariably raised.
The words were still there, and with the way Lex was looking at him, he wondered if some of them weren't on his face. Lex only said, "A grand saga, with pages and pages of subtext."
"It's not subtext if it's in the text," Clark said, not pretending to have missed the words and willing to distract Lex with a few of his own. "And trust me, should they ever put my life up on the screen, it will play out more like the gay version of The Buttercream Gang instead of Lord of the Rings."
"Better than Animal House," Lex tossed back, as quick as usual, though his eyes stayed focused on Clark in a way that said he wasn't truly derailed. "Full circle, we're back to animals." There was a pause before his next words came out, more seriously in tone. "Thank you, Clark."
Lex was easier at gratitude than apologies, but Clark couldn't imagine him allowing many people to do something for him that would earn it. Certainly not Clark, who hadn't managed to feed him or offer decent advice. "For what?"
Lex's tongue flicked out over his lips. "For listening."
"It's what friends do."
"I'm sure. I just haven't had enough to form a complete picture. More research is required for that, too." He smirked as if to deny the harsh truth of the words. "Lois doesn't count."
Feeling more dutiful than amused, Clark smiled back. "Sure she does. Lois's friendship is impossible to deny. Or avoid, once she's decided on it."
That earned him a real smile that actually lingered for more than a few seconds. "I wonder if you were broken in before you'd realized it. Trained by Lois's cousin not to know better."
"Chloe and Lois are frighteningly alike," Clark admitted. "But they're different, too. Have you met Chloe?"
"Twice, but we haven't had much to do with each other. Her father worked for mine and it's always been wise to keep a distance."
A question was on the tip of Clark's tongue, but he swallowed it back. Bringing Lex's father into the conversation would probably drain all amusement from it, as would any talk about Clark’s theories regarding Gabe Sullivan, Cadmus Labs, and Lex Luthor’s involvement in Smallville. Clark liked the half-smile on Lex's face as he joked with Clark.
"I always wanted my own memoirs to read like a romance novel."
Clark stared at him. "No, you didn't."
"I did. Then I realized that they ended on the high point for a couple who barely managed to get it together in the first place. Entirely unrealistic.”
“It’s not unrealistic,” Clark argued, continuing quickly when it looked like Lex was going to argue. “But I would agree that it’s not the full picture. There’s no telling how they’d deal with their first fight, or bad days, or in-laws coming to stay for the holidays.”
“Or one of the pair clipping their toenails in bed, or leaving the bathroom door open.” They shared a grimace, and then broke out laughing, Clark breaking just seconds before Lex.
Clark sobered enough to make his final point. “But sometimes couples weather all those storms and they find they can make it work. I figure love is mostly being stubborn enough to overcome the disagreeable aspects. Assuming the agreeable outweighs the disagreeable.”
“Assuming,” Lex repeated.
“My parents were happy together, but they weren’t perfect. I didn’t realize it until I was older, but every time they’d fight, Dad would stomp around in the house with his boots and Mom wouldn’t speak to him to remind him to take them off. She’d iron his socks and jeans instead of his shirts, and he’d thank her for dinner without complimenting it.” Small things, but when Clark had caught on, it had changed his perception of their marriage. “But up to the last, even when they didn’t want to be around each other, there wasn’t really anywhere else either one would rather be.”
“So, for you, love is passive aggressive and overcomes everything so long as no one runs off and forgets to come back?”
“Coming home, being a home for someone, is definitely a part of it. It’s another aspect of family.”
After having dinner with Chloe, his treat, Clark headed back home. Mrs. Quartermain was sitting on the porch in her rocking chair. Clark waved and started up the walk to Lex's house, but she called his name. He detoured across their lawns.
"You're home late," she said by way of greeting.
Some evenings Clark got home later, but she was right. His impromptu discussion with Chloe had taken him well past the time he normally arrived home on Monday's. "I had dinner with a friend."
Her eyes narrowed. "Not that Lois?"
Clark smiled. "No. Her cousin, actually. We went to high school together."
"Hm. Not a girlfriend." It wasn’t a question.
"No. We dated, briefly. It didn't go well." He shrugged. "She's been my best friend since she forgave me."
"And I don't see you bringing anyone into the house except that Lois. No boyfriend either?" Her face softened when he didn't answer immediately. "You don't have to tell me, dear."
"I don't date," Clark finally admitted, looking across the street. "It's complicated beyond being a farm-raised gay kid."
"Love is always complicated," Mrs. Quartermain said wisely. "Except when it's simple."
Clark looked at her and smiled. "I think that's true of life in general."
"For the most part. Some things are always easy, though. Sunsets, for one," she said, pointing toward the pink-tinged horizon. "Only a fool could make that difficult. Now sit here and be simple for a bit. Someone has to eat these cookies."
They were peanut butter and they actually tasted good. Clark limited himself to two, so as to avoid setting a precedent for future batches. Mrs. Quartermain spoke about the neighborhood. It was very general talk about the neighbors and nosy people, but her tone changed and Clark felt suddenly on high alert.
"I do like it when they acknowledge my power," she added, smiling when it pulled a laugh out of Clark. Her expression turned serious again. "I don't like it when people try to get around me. I am a pretty good judge of character, Clark, and the only people who avoid me are the ones who don't want me to expose what it is they're hiding. And I don't mean the secrets that normal people like you and Lex hide, regardless of how not normal those secrets may seem."
Clark chose not to contradict her about how normal he wasn’t. “Have you seen him, the guy snooping around?”
“No,” she admitted. Clark copied her frown. He had figured out pretty quickly that little escaped her notice because she was constantly on watch, whether sitting on her front porch or looking out her windows. It was possibly chance she had missed the stranger going around their neighborhood, but Clark felt her concern as his own.
“I’ll check with Lois, see if she knows of anyone hanging around and making a nuisance of themselves.” She hadn’t mentioned Lex directly, but Clark felt that he owed her some offered honesty. “I’m going to talk to Lex about it.”
She pursed her lips, but nodded. “It probably concerns him, if someone is snooping around.”
They were apparently thinking alike, and Clark could appreciate that. He still hesitated before sharing, “Sometimes when I come home, I feel like someone is watching.” It wasn’t just at home. Sometimes, he’d be trying to sneak away to attend to business as Superman, and he’d hesitate, walk a little further and turn an extra corner. It was what he had spoken to Chloe about at dinner. She was balancing work as a reporter herself, and her work as a vigilante hacker, but if someone was on to Clark, it was possible she was going to be caught in the cross-fire.
If it was someone looking too closely at Lex, and Clark as a by-product, there was still a chance Chloe or Lois would get mixed up in it by association. Clark was pretty sure his mother was safe, but he and Chloe had discussed setting up security at the farm.
There was a weight to Mrs. Quartermain’s silence. She reached out and touched he back of his hand, the tips of her fingers a little cool from the evening chill. “Be careful, Clark. And continue to look out for him. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll feel better if both you boys are keeping your eyes open.”
Clark didn’t have a chance to bring it up with Lex. The moment they were in the same room, Lex was complaining about writing now that his inspiration was ‘diminished’.
"I can't really kill off Dracula. It doesn't work in today's culture. The bastard managed to live for years before, and aside for a weakness for redheads, he's virtually-"
"Wait, Joseph's a blond," Clark interrupted. He'd felt... odd about it. Red hair fit closer, yes, but. Well. He'd read Lex into the part and any hair at all had seemed wrong, really. A wig he expected to be removed any time hair at all was mentioned.
"Because my editor said blond was the new red. But the point, Clark. The point is that I can't just kill the bastard off and have Joseph go on to a bigger and better thing. I have to give the cock-teasing bastard a happy. Bloody. Ending. Fuck me." And his agent and editor had both agreed that poor little Max, Joseph’s pet project at the start of the fifth book, had to die a horrible, bloody death. For the sake of the plot, and not because the two of them weren’t avid shippers. Clark had come down to find the scotch empty and Lex asleep at the kitchen table after that bit of news had come through.
"Or fuck him," Clark muttered. He wouldn't really hurt someone, not even for breaking Lex's heart, but, well. He was good at stacking cars. Minor vagrancies.
"Oh, trust me, been there, done that, and that's still not going to get this damn story written. It's my own fault for tying the character so tightly to my ideal of the man. If I'd picked... but no. I can't just pick a pretty face. I don't write that way." Lex slumped further. "Tell me again why writing and alcohol shouldn't go together."
"I don't actually know why it shouldn't. But you're not writing now, if you, uh, wanted a drink." Not that he was encouraging it, hell no, but the last time he'd seen Lex happy had been New Year's and the champagne, and Lex and Lois teaming up to tease Clark about his plebian rituals. God, he was enabling.
His realization must have shown on his face, given the way Lex grinned at him. Without alcohol, even. "I know why Lois calls you 'Smallville', you know. And it has nothing to do with the farm boy chic or your origins."
"Oh?" Clark wasn't really curious. He'd figured out a while ago that it was just Lois getting in another barb, another tease. He didn’t think there was a deeper meaning behind it.
"It's the blush. That one, yes." Lex pointed at Clark's face, then dropped his hand. "It's the innocence, the naiveté. Sure, you've seen some things and you're quick to catch on to the world in some regards. But at the heart of you, you'll always be a simple farm kid. Trusting, optimistic, full of platitudes."
It was true enough to be inarguable in Lex’s current mood. "Those aren't bad things. Which you know, because some of that's true for you."
That paused whatever tangent Lex was going to hit on next. His expression changed from the teasing smile he used when picking on Clark to something a little dimmer. "Oh?"
"You display your trust differently, but you let Lois in the house at all, despite knowing how nosy she is. You trusted Mrs. Quartermain enough to strike a bargain with her. And the first day I knew you, you let me know both of those things. Which doesn't mean you trusted me as much instantly, but you let me in, Lex."
There was an unguarded quality to Lex's gaze when Clark stopped speaking, a surprise that Clark felt echoed inside. He'd spoken mostly on instinct, the words ringing true as they were spoken, though he hadn't realized the impact of them until they were out.
"What's optimism if not taking a chance to let people prove you right?" It felt like they were teetering on the brink of something and some instinct told Clark it wasn't time for them to go over the edge. He brushed a hand over his own face, still heated from Lex's earlier comments. "And you blush, too."
He’d apparently stunned Lex silent, which hadn’t been his intention but was a considerable feat regardless. It was probably the best opening he would get for the topic he still needed to address.
“And being trustful doesn’t make me stupid. I was talking to Mrs. Q today,” Somewhere in the conversation, he'd slipped out with the nickname while talking to her, and she'd laughed in delight and told him to continue, “And there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“A stalker?” Lex said flatly. His earlier mirth was gone. “She was looking worried, and that’s what happened last time a fan got a little too close. I do have security measures in place.”
“Oh,” Clark mumbled, surprised. “I-I’m glad you’re already aware.”
Lex shrugged. “It’s happened before. Hopefully, whoever it is will be like the last, because if that’s the case, they’ll be unable to resist Mrs. Quartermain -- which, by the way, Mrs. Q? -- At which point that will be the end of it. She has a way about her, and her grandchildren on the police force.”
She hadn’t mentioned it, but Clark believed it. It helped that the thirteenth book in Lex’s romance series was titled The Police Officer’s Courtship. He bit his lip for a moment before asking, “Were you going to say anything to me?”
It was apparently the second time he’d surprised Lex enough to rob him of words, though this pause was considerably shorter. “I should have, probably. But this is the first time that anyone else has been around when it’s happened.”
“Lois-“
“Before you moved in, most of my face to face time with Lois has been scheduled for public cafes and private restaurants, where I have met her after making a considerable effort to lose anyone attempting to follow me. It’s an unfortunate skill that gained relevance when my father and I parted ways a decade ago.” His gaze was vulnerable, but straightforward as he met Clark’s eyes. “You’re the first person to be enmeshed so completely in my space that I have to worry for your safety as well.”
Clark waited, figuring that was a perfect opportunity for Lex to reclaim his space, if he wanted it. How could Clark argue that his own safety wasn’t compromised, that it was unlikely that Lex’s stalker could do anything that would harm Clark? Without being able to tell the truth, Clark would have to accept any decision Lex made in that regard.
“But I’ll take care of it. We’ll have the security system working by tonight and we’ll get you set up. Fingerprint and retina scan, voice matching as tertiary security if the percent matchup of the first two isn’t high enough.” He hesitated. “That is, if you don’t wish to make other arrangements.”
Clark shook his head. “I’m sure your measures will be enough.” And if they weren’t, Clark would feel better being on hand if Lex needed him.
Their infrequent conversations became more frequent, until Clark felt certain he had become Lex's go-to man on writing. He didn’t know who had filled that role before him, if anyone, but it gave him Lex’s attention frequently and it sent the author seeking out Clark enough that Clark could count on seeing Lex at least once a day, most weeks.
"It's not even just the situation with Bruce. The novel before this was difficult, too, in some ways. Maybe it was just that I knew that relationship wasn't going to last."
Clark, who had no idea what to say and even less desire to comment on anything related to Lex's ex. He shrugged and added more butter to the bowl before he went back to mashing the potatoes by hand.
"Or that the relationship wasn't right. We can salvage the friendship, which for the two of us, says a lot about how strong it was, actually. Stronger than I would have thought. The type of friendship we shouldn't have tried to muddy up with a romantic relationship." The anger having burned out, Lex fell more often than not into a maudlin mood, denying the existence of true love, unicorns, and possibility.
"Or maybe you couldn't know that until you tried it," Clark finally said. "If we knew how every relationship would end before we got into it..." There'd be less broken hearts, for one. And it'd be nice to know that the faith you were putting into someone today would pan out in ten years when they come through on a diversion that kept your secret safe. "There'd be no mystery," he finished lamely.
He didn't have to see Lex's smirk to know it was there. "Mystery is not what I'm after. Not personally. Though in fiction, knowing too much definitely ruins things. And maybe that's the issue with Joseph and his vampire lover-turned-sire. I and my readers know how the story should end, we know that they have to be together by the end, but at this point, it's too obvious how they get there. I've ruined the journey."
Clark sighed, recognizing the sound of Lex leaving his seat at the table. Without turning from the counter, he called, "I'll bring lunch down when it's done!"
He didn't have to carry a plate down to the basement after all, as Lex returned a minute later with his tablet computer. "Not ready to start working on the story itself yet. Just taking notes, reviewing my options. I know some authors prefer to brainstorm with pen and paper, but for me, everything starts on the computer."
"You just can't do anything low-tech," countered Clark, smiling to himself as he put the potatoes down, washed his hands, and checked the roast in the oven. He was pleased to be allowed to be in Lex's company a bit longer. Anyone would be. To add emphasis to his teasing words, he muttered loudly, “Two point security measures to get in the front door, instead of an extra deadbolt or a dog.”
"Says the man who doesn't use my perfectly nice mixer to make mashed potatoes. The alarm isn’t just to keep people out, it’s to notify everyone who needs to know that the house has been compromised.” There was a strident quality to Lex’s voice.
"I know, Lex. I was just teasing." He hadn’t meant to make the other man defensive. Clark closed the oven door and turned back to Lex. "Potatoes now or with the roast?"
Lex shrugged like it didn't matter, but his eyes went to the bowl and lingered. "For the next book, I think I'll use a new genre. I'll stick with the fantastic, but not vampires again, heaven forefend. And not werewolves, whatever my harpy of an editor says about the current rage."
"What comes after vampires and werewolves?" Clark asked curiously, putting a plate down in front of Lex and spooning a healthy heaping of mashed potatoes onto it, with no objection from Lex.
Lex stared at the white lump for a moment before picking up his spoon, tablet put aside on the table for the moment. "I don't know. Creatures of legend, possibly. Or if you're Meyer, aliens."
"Aliens aren't sexy," Clark said quickly. He raised one hand to feign antennae, the other hand still occupied with the potatoes. "Small, pasty, bulbous heads. Big, beady black eyes."
Lex laughed at him, which had been the intention. "Not those kind of aliens, obviously. No. To make it sexy, I think I'd have to combine our current reality and tie it back to the classics. Superman, alien invasions, alien overlord." He scraped the mashed potatoes into a mountain, taking a moment to sculpt a peak, before shoving a bite into his mouth. His face took on a dreamy quality. Clark was ready to applaud his cooking when Lex swallowed and continued on. "Yes, I think that's it. Blue-skinned aliens, with a sexy, well-hung overlord. Come to Earth to take a consort. A human slave talented of body and mouth," he continued, standing up. He leaned over the table for another bite of potatoes, then dropped his napkin beside his plate. "Let me just..."
Clark watched with disappointment as the food was pushed aside and the tablet took up space in front of Lex again.
It was different, to have Lex present and yet inattentive. Clark settled in with his textbook and notes, picked up his pen, then looked up at Lex drawing animatedly on the tablet, brow furrowed.
Clark ducked his head and got down to his own work before Lex had a chance to catch him staring and call him on it. He figured that was the end of their conversation and he occasionally ate from his own small plate, unwilling to leave the table while Lex was still there, but not really hungry. He was surprised when Lex spoke again without lifting his head from where he was tapping away at the screen of his tablet. “Given our local Alien-Superhero-in-Tights, and your bringing up bulbous eyestalks instead, I’d say that you’re avoiding thinking about Superman. Are you trying to hide your superhero crush on him?”
Clark didn’t even have to try to make a face of disgust, his face just twitched naturally at the idea of wanting himself. Lex didn’t look up at all as he divided his attention between food (at least Clark could console himself that his cooking was good enough to battle Lex’s intense focus on his writing) and whatever he was typing out.
Then Lex did look up. “Not going to confirm or deny the allegation, Mr. Kent?”
“I don’t lust after Superman,” Clark answered simply. “And my favorite alien will probably always be ET.”
“Very classic. That explains your initial response.” He put the tablet aside and took another bite of potatoes, all while his gaze lingered on Clark. “I don’t want to attempt to write a botched and terribly insensitive biography of our caped hero, but I will admit that he’s built in a pleasing way.”
“Lois says he’s hot like fire and I’m pretty certain she’s been plotting ways to make him rescue her again,” Clark shared disconsolately. It was a bit disheartening to have her lust after an aspect of Clark that felt less real. Superman existed only in the spaces where he was needed, meaning there was no ‘person’ to get to know, no possible ways they’d have hobbies and interests in common.
And back when Clark had liked Lois, when he’d been enamored by her at the end of high school, she’d shot him down because they hadn’t had enough in common. It was for the best, since Clark’s feelings faded quickly after that.
“He’s aesthetically pleasing,” Lex said, paraphrasing himself from earlier. “But aside from the speed and the strength and the invulnerability, he’s very human looking. And while the idea of being physically compatible to human is probably for the best, if I go that route, there’s a certain expectation that I’m going to push boundaries. There has to be something alien about an alien if I write it.”
“But your alien will still have to be recognizably human,” Clark pointed out. “Like your vampires. There has to be something about them that allows your readers to be sympathetic.”
Lex regarded him, all of his apparent focus on Clark for the first time since he’d started down this tangent. He nodded after a moment and went back to his tablet without saying anything else, though this time around he ignored the food remaining on his plate. Clark sighed and went back to his own food.
Clark was no sooner in the door after class than Lex was at his elbow with a laundry list of questions. "What do you think? Double penis? Or hollow penis? No penis? Retractable penis, tentacles, tubule that gives its own version of a blowjob during coitus. Opinions, Kent?"
"Uh, no. No opinion. Except I don't know why every alien has to have some strange apparatus. What's wrong with a normal penis?" Normal penises were great. Wonderful, in fact. Not that there was anything wrong with extra appendages, either. Though Clark was maybe a little biased.
"On a man? Or even a vampire, nothing. But if I'm going to make the alien suitably exotic, I need something besides blue skin. And no antennae, Mr. Smart-ass." He had his tablet in hand and he was scrolling through notes on it, occasionally waving his hands erratically. He’d obviously been working on this for a while. "Something out of the ordinary. No soul-bonds, no bonding. Addictive cum? Male pregnancy. Egg laying."
Clark ignored the itchy feeling that ran up his sides and settled against his ribs. He raised a hand to stem the flow of words. "I really have no idea. I'm a fan of plain sex. Penis, a-ass, in this case. Tab A, slot B. Missionary really works for me, use of hands and mouth." All theoretical, but Clark was allowed his fantasies.
He had Lex's undivided attention. Surprise surprise. And he knew by the smirk that he was already blushing again. "Kent. Clark. Tell me about these kinks of yours."
He rolled his eyes. "I have kinks. I'm not sharing them with you, just so you can list off the other thousand kinks I don't like or haven't discovered."
Lex shook his head sadly. "You really need to remember sometimes that I'm not Lois."
"You tease like Lois," Clark reminded him, not buying the faint air of hurt. "Maybe for aliens, normal sex would be kinky. Maybe they typically do it upside down in closet-like spaces to stimulate circulation."
It was kind of stupid, but Lex's bark of laughter was worth the slight ding to his pride. "Oh, Clark."
"Just because it's not kinky to you doesn't mean it's not someone else's illicit sexual addiction."
"You have a point, farm boy." His expression was soft, deceptively open. "I think you should tell me your fantasies. Let me guide you in the exploration of your wild side."
Oh, god, if Lex only would. "You just want to paint me blue and attach rubber tubing to various parts of my body."
"That, too. You never know, you might like it." The twist of his mouth said he'd make sure of it.
Clark swallowed, knowing it was an empty promise. Lex teased like Lois did, with that sultry edge that spoke of seduction but always disappeared before an honest invitation was tendered. "Licking. Licking is kinky. Go write about your blue alien giving his human consort a tongue bath." Clark waved toward the kitchen and the basement door beyond, but was surprised when Lex actually started heading that way. "Wait, was that a good suggestion?"
Lex turned back with a smirk. "You should try it out and tell me how kinky you think it is."
In the give and flow of their banter, Clark couldn't resist trying to get in the last shot. "You know, sex doesn't have to be kinky to be good."
To his surprise, Lex let him have it. He gave Clark a look that was short but searching before he was through the door and around the wall, out of a normal human's range of sight. Clark turned toward the stairs to the second floor before he could give in to the temptation to follow him all the way down with his x-ray vision. He did that far too often as it was.
Those little looks of Lex’s were becoming more common, much like the flirtatious offers. It made Clark wonder if there wasn’t a hint of sincerity in the teasing offers. It was difficult, continually convincing himself he was projecting.
Even if Lex was sincere, what was Clark going to do about it? Lex had opened up to him so much since Clark had come to live with him, even more so once his relationship with his ex had dissolved. Clark trusted Lex, and it seemed mutual, but trusting Lex with his safety was different from trusting him with his heart. Clark couldn’t give parts of himself without handing over the rest.
Once he had discovered his own origins, Clark’s worst fear had been ending up on a metal table in a lab. Worst case scenario of telling Lex wasn’t that dire (Clark had trust enough in that), but Clark couldn’t bear the thought of having to leave, of Lex pulling away and locking Clark out of his life. He’d rather continue to lie to Lex and keep his unearned trust.
The kitchen was unnaturally still for not being empty. Clark stopped at the threshold and looked in at Lex seated at the table. His heels were up on the chair opposite, head tipped back, his hands folded in his lap. It was no position Clark had ever seen before, nor one that he would have imagined for Lex.
Despite his eyes being closed, the pace of his breathing and the frown marring his brows gave away that Lex was awake. Awake and unaware of company. The polite thing to do would be to turn and leave, or at the very least announce is presence, but Clark did neither. He could cite to himself multiple reasons or excuses, but the simple truth was that Lex was always entrancing, his stillness more so for its novelty.
Clark kept quiet even as he recognized a shift in position. Chin tilting down, forehead smoothing out, lips turning up at the corner. When Lex opened his eyes and caught Clark's gaze with no hint of surprise, Clark could do nothing but smile helplessly back at him.
"Clark," Lex said in greeting, drawing his heels off the other chair and sitting up straighter. "Dilemma for the day. Are you ready for this?"
"Depends," Clark answered, stepping onto the tile and taking his normal seat. "Is it going to involve my sex life?"
Lex's smile widened dangerously. "It could. Depends on your sex life, I suppose." He had a short laugh at Clark's expense and then leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table as he cupped his chin. He looked a little childish and he sealed the effect by pitching his voice into a higher, more childish pitch. He was either trying to sound like a kid or a woman, without quite succeeding in either. "So, Clark, tell me all about baking."
He somehow made 'baking' sound like a lewd act, which was why it took a second too long for the request to make sense. "Baking?" Clark asked for clarity. He looked at the oven that he was certain hadn’t ever been used before he started living in the house, then returned his gaze to Lex. "Baking."
"Baking," Lex repeated, dropping the pose and leaning back in his chair. "Specifically apples. Do you do anything special to the apples before you toss them in the crust?"
"You couldn't just look up recipes?"
Lex waved a hand, dismissing that idea. "Please. I have tried recipes from the internet and I assure you the people who post them either don't know how to bake or don't know how to explain the process." He paused, following Clark's gaze to the oven before he admitted, "The oven is newer than the house. Considerably newer. And it's not the first I've bought. Now tell me about baking."
"First tell me how this relates to aliens." He knew how baking related to himself, or he to it, but he didn’t know what kind of connection Lex might have made and he was curious. Lex knew a lot of things, and it would be fascinating if he was anywhere close to reality.
"It's not the alien sex slave story," Lex said. "And I'd ask Mrs. Quartermain, given that she's largely responsible for the continuation of the romance series, but as dear as she is, her baking isn't something I'd want to describe for the readers."
That made more sense. Clark pushed down the tiny disappointment that pinged in his heart and stood. "Okay. Do you want to get your apron?"
That got him a blank look as Lex tilted his head back to keep his eyes on Clark's face. "Why do I need an apron?"
"Because the best way to learn about it is to do it. We are stocked for cookies, apple pies, or an apple crisp." He'd been planning to bake on Sunday evening for a surprise for Chloe and Lois on Monday, but they had plenty of ingredients for multiple batches of any of it and a sacrifice for a good cause.
"Can you do an apple cookie?" Lex asked dryly, slowly rising off the chair. He didn't sound enthusiastic, but there was excitement in his eyes, in the way he bounced on his feet once he was standing up.
Clark thought about the question for a moment, then decided it was probably past time Lex was introduced to his mother in some form. He knew she'd be tickled by the call and if anyone knew how to put apples into cookies, it'd be his Mom. "We should ask an expert that question."
Next Part: Interlude Two