Permanent Insanity

by a campbell

Smallville, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

____________________

Many thanks to fajrdrako for the beta.

Written for Signe's birthday.

____________________

Even though his father claimed otherwise, Lex Luthor didn't usually let emotions get in his way. Ever. And, even if he made the very occasional mistake, he didn't waste time regretting it.

If he had business, or a task in front of him, he was passionless and methodical about getting it done. Business was business, work was work, sex was sex.

Friendship? No such thing. Not for him.

Until he met Clark, and since then, everything was skewed.

And new. And better in many ways, disturbing in some, wonderful in others. Each day an adventure: speculating whether their paths would cross, knowing they would on the days the produce deliveries were scheduled, or there was time for a break at the Beanery. Luckily, Clark was addicted to coffee, and Lex knew he could usually count on meeting him there. Or, if he didn't wander in, Lex could always waylay him when he strode by outside.

In the months since Lex had known Clark, he'd been often surprised by his reactions. His behavior, often uncharacteristic. Emotions he didn't remember feeling for a long time. But, though the friendship had transformed him, he hadn't changed completely. Clark was still an enigma, a challenge, a mystery to be solved. There was something he didn't know, something Clark wouldn't share. He didn't know Clark well enough. He wanted to know as much as possible about Clark, everything he could. He wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything.

And the past week, for perhaps the first time, Lex came perilously close to regretting an action.

He'd studied the computer simulation of the accident over and over, been hourly more convinced of what he'd believed since the beginning. That Clark was unusually strong. That Clark had saved him. That Clark was a god among men, who stubbornly refused to admit it.

Convinced enough to go to Clark's, confront him, dare him to tell him the truth. Because he always went after what he wanted. And there was no such thing as too much information.

It was dark by the time he pulled up at the Kents' farm. Clark was outside, working on the pasture fence. Good. No interference from Jonathan or Martha, not this time.

Clark had seemed bone-tired that night. And that had been a first. Clark was unfailingly bright, energetic, comfortable. Perennial good health, it was part of his appeal. Tonight, his face was pale with exhaustion and he confided to a surprised Lex that he was "beat".

"I can barely feel my own arms," he said.

But Lex had gone ahead with his plan, nonetheless. He was focused. If Clark's defenses were down, so much the better.

"We're friends, right?"

And Clark had agreed, even as a shadow of suspicion darkened his brow.

"I want you to tell me what really happened that day my car went off the bridge."

Clark had sighed with the weary patience of one dealing with an unruly child. "I dove in and I pulled you out."

"And that's it?"

"Lex, seriously what's wrong?"

"I don't think you're being completely honest, and I think I know why."

"All right. Well then YOU tell ME what happened."

"I think I hit you at 60 miles an hour. Then you ripped oven my roof, pulled me out, and saved my life. You're the closest I've had to a real friend my whole life. You don't have to hide anything from me."

Clark had flipped then.

"Take this hammer. Go on, hit me, anywhere."

Not the reaction Lex was expecting, or hoping for. He wasn't expecting the anger.

"Clark, I just want the truth."

"The truth is: I'm just a guy who tried to do the right thing. Isn't that enough?"

And something unfamiliar had stirred in Lex's breast. A brief flash of panic which he beat down at once. But he'd still have risked looking like an idiot and gathered Clark in his arms, had Clark not leveled one fuming gaze and stalked off, back toward the farmhouse, leaving Lex in darkness both literal and figurative.

Nothing to do but go back home.

He remembered Clark's gaze, hurt, intense, affronted as he trudged off back to the farmhouse.

And Lex had been...not ashamed, he was never ashamed, but, he wished he could go back and leave what he'd said unsaid. Maybe it was the fatigue, but Lex was--not afraid, he was never afraid--but concerned that he might have done damage to something that now couldn't be fixed.

A guy who tried to do the right thing... Was it enough? For Lex?

____________________

Before, when he was planning, and even as he spoke, he hadn't seen anything wrong in his request for Clark to be honest with him. But now, he felt he had somehow violated the trust between them. He tried to talk himself out of this notion with no success. But, when he heard that Clark had been seriously injured at school, he felt panicked, and almost sick with guilt. A brand-new feeling for him.

He'd seen Clark at the hospital that afternoon, and been teased, forgiven, even given one of those stunning, rare and beautiful smiles, and Lex should have been able to put everything out of his mind with a good conscience, and gone on with the rest of his life. As he was sure Clark had. They were still friends.

But he still felt strange. He couldn't forget the incident. And he couldn't get Clark out of his mind.

Hard as he tried. He wanted to see him.

____________________

"You okay?" asked Lex as he got out of his car. It was Saturday, probably almost lunchtime for farmers, but Lex intended to make this visit quick. He didn't intend to take up too much of Clark's time.

Clark was by the fence again, and welcomed him with a grin. He didn't appear tired in the least today, despite his injuries. Lex felt a welcome wave of relief combined with a brief flicker of suspicion.

"Yeah," said Clark. "Definitely on the mend. Thanks for coming by the hospital, Lex. It was good to see you there."

"Clark. About the other night, when I came out here--"

"Forget it, Lex. We both said things we shouldn't have. I'm cool. Hope you are, too."

Well, hardly, thought Lex. You couldn't call it cool.

Lex leaned against the fence, and bowed his head for one brief moment. The cows lowed, a flock of late-winter geese honked overhead. Not the most romantic setting, but--

"I love you," Lex heard himself say the phrase, so often said by others, rarely by him. Not letting himself think about what Clark's reaction might be. He'd have been astonished at his own words, had he not wanted to say them so much.

No answer. After a moment, Lex turned, summoning all the composure at his command.

Clark was gazing at him, mouth open, worried, astonished, or--

Fuck, thought Lex.

Clark exhaled a long breath. Lex waited for him to speak, not daring to breathe, himself. "What made you decide to come and tell me?"

Lex shrugged. When he spoke, his voice was casual. "My acting like a dick the other night. And you forgiving me."

Clark frowned, and sighed, shaking his head. Lex waited.

Then, Clark raised his head and turned to Lex. He took a gigantic breath, his mouth lifting into the broadest of grins. Smiled warm, as though it were Christmas, his birthday, and the last day of school, all combined. Surprised, pleased, and giddy all at once.

"Well, I love you, too. I'm just glad you said it first, because I've been trying to get up the courage for months."

Lex registered an odd thud somewhere around his chest. Then, a serious thrill, and there were no words, no time to think, just to feel. The sensation of Clark, taller, bigger than he was, moving in close, pulling him close, folding him against his strong body. Strong, as he always knew his embrace would be, the clean, fresh, smoky, woodsy scent of his clothes and hair.

"Lex," Clark breathed, murmured, cupping the back of his head with a warm palm.

"Yeah?" Lex murmured, letting his hands roam up and down Clark's broad shoulders and back.

"Yeah, Dork," said Clark. Nibble to his ear. "You're too much." Clark let his face go serious, looked down at Lex a little sternly, reminding Lex just a little of his father, Jonathan. "Stop asking so many questions. Just relax and enjoy life a little. That way, we can both relax. And enjoy this!"

Clark's arms tightened around him strong, warm, astonishingly gentle. He felt Clark nuzzle, then tongue his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Clark folded his arms around Lex and bent to nuzzle his cheek like an eager puppy.

"Yeah, okay," Lex heard himself mumble. "Whatever you say, Clark." His arms went around Clark of their own accord in a more gentle embrace.

"You're crazy, Lex."

"I know. I've been pretty much told that before."

"What I figured," Clark let his face go mock-serious. "It's a permanent condition. Guess I'll just have to put up with it, though. Because, I'm hoping the way we feel about each other will be, too."

"Yeah," said Lex, thinking hazily that he sounded like a broken record this afternoon as his eyes fell shut and he felt Clark's warm mouth on his once again.

____________________

Feedback is welcome at amoss53@yahoo.com

Return to homepage