The Promise Ring

by a campbell

Smallville, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

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R, Spoilers for Season 2. Takes place after Fever

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No one else is to blame in the slightest, for I had a plethora of help. Thanks to Jon Anderson for musical inspiration, lexalot for the "Tom in Green" pics, Shower Mat msdaccxx who assisted with all the Gaelic, Celtic and Irish elements even allowing beta duty to intrude on her holiday in England. Shower Mat has cool Gaelic punctuation symbols in her word processing program, and I'm emerald green with envy...Thanks also to fajrdrako and oxoniensis, always so generous with their time and beta skills.

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Countdown.

Six days to St. Patrick's Day, Lex noted, then snapped his PDA shut. And a mere eight weeks to his own wedding. Cause for celebration.

He frowned.

Standing half in the shadows at the edge of the wide wooden floor cleared for dancing, he didn't want to admit that he wished he'd brought a fleece jacket in addition to the pale green sweater he wore. He was tough; he could take it. It was wet and muddy in the ice-flecked yard, chilly in the Kents' barn. But the enthusiasm of the many people there, crowding around for food, music, and dancing, was unaffected by the cold.

Irish flags bedecked the rough barn walls, splashes of orange and green interspersed with foil shamrocks against the dark wood. Lex scanned the rough-hewn tables covered with green and white cloths, the kegs of beer and stout, the tureens of Irish stew, the soda bread, doughnuts, and shepherd's pie. It was his first invitation to the Kents'annual Irish ceili, a combination of Kansas country and a few elements that were surprisingly, authentically Irish. Lex knew; he'd spent a couple of summers in Galway.

He yawned. He was bone-tired, weary from the latest of many 60-hour workweeks, but he'd promised Clark. Clark had begged him to attend, and Clark didn't ask for much, for many favors of the everyday sort. So, here he was. When he'd arrived, Mr. Kent had slapped him on the back hard enough to jar his teeth and Martha had given him a quick hug, and admonished him to be sure to eat something, tonight--he looked so thin.

Lana had arrived early to help them set up, and greeted him as she usually did: as though she knew a secret and was enjoying some covert amusement at his expense. Seemed to be a pattern with them. So what? Lex told himself. She couldn't know about him and Clark, though if she did, he doubted the knowledge would make her smile. The girl seemed surprisingly chipper, considering that it had only been a few weeks since the news of Whitney's death had reached Smallville.

The tips of Ladybird's fur had been tinted green, but the lime-colored satin bow Martha had tied around her neck was already lying tattered on the floor. Lex bent to pet the dog and chuckled as she snorted and licked his face with her sandpaper tongue as enthusiastically as ever.

Dance it...in a circle

Clark and Lana were partnered for the first, (Americanized, Lex thought to himself) set dance. Lex told himself he didn't mind, wasn't jealous.

Nothing to be jealous of.

He reminded himself that, the night before, it had been his arms Clark had sought, for more than refuge from the storm threatening outside. His mouth around Clark's cock, his name that Clark had groaned as he came. His, not Lana's. Lana hadn't even been mentioned

The memory should have helped. But tonight, it didn't. Late-winter melancholy could be a bitch.

Still, he smiled as he went through his mental catalog of images from Friday evening. Recalled covering Clark with a thin blanket as he slept afterward, slipping his own slim hand through dusky curls as Clark enjoyed the wholesome rest of the young and strong. How Clark had stirred, reached up and pulled him close before they both sank into sleep.

Sometimes, the depth of his love for Clark alarmed him.

Take it in

Clark, typically, had been late tonight. But it had been worth it to Lex to have to stand making banal chitchat with the others, just to see the light come into Clark's eyes, when he finally arrived and their gazes met. For them to exchange views for a few minutes about the weather and the afternoon's basketball scores, as though they were no more than casual friends. For Clark to pull him into the darkening barnyard for a hurried, wet kiss.

"God, I missed you," Clark voice was between a whine and a moan, and despite the warm young mouth on his, Lex shivered as groping hands glided up and down his body. "Relax, Lex. No one can see."

"I know it," said Lex, forcing himself to sound casual and calm.

"Damn party," muttered Clark, scuffing mud from his shoe against the bottom rung of the fence. "We should be alone tonight." His smile beamed through the murk of the evening as he touched a hand to Lex's face.

"Where?" asked Lex, voice husky. He glided a thumb down Clark's cheek, grinning at the light sheen of stubble his touch encountered. Clark bent to nip gently at Lex's fingers, drag a fingertip into his mouth with lip and tongue, and Lex shivered with pleasure, bit his own lips to hold back the gasp that caught in his throat.

"Anywhere. Anywhere you could suck me off and no one could see." Clark broke off with a laugh. "Kissing out here is pretty safe, but that..." He shook his head and let his hands wander up to hold Lex's face steady for another kiss, but Lex stopped him with an exasperated shake of his head.

"Damn it, Clark," he hissed. "You're learning too fast. Now, we'll have to wait to go back inside." He pressed Clark's palm to the front of his slacks to make his point.

"You too, huh?" Clark sounded delighted. They both took deep breaths and grinned at each other through the semi-darkness. Lex held Clark's hand in place, moved it in slow circles, pressed harder.

Clark swallowed hard; Lex could see his throat constrict, heard that he had to clear it before speaking again. Clark took a deep breath. "Let's think of something really unsexy."

"Principal Reynolds' mother." Lex offered.

"No. Professor Walden..."

"Sheriff Adams..."

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Dance it...in a dream...

Lex yawned again, watching the dance, which was just getting into swing. Guitar, pennywhistle, dulcimer, spoons, bodhran, uileann pipes, mandolin, fiddle. Good musicians, authentic. Sounding even better now that he'd had two or three glasses of Guinness. And now that he and Clark were both calmed down, at least temporarily.

Clark and Lana were always a pretty pair, but they looked great together tonight, both in shades of green, the best color for each of them. Their faces were flushed, they were breathless, and there was light in both sets of eyes. Clark was usually quiet and over- serious, so Lex loved seeing him laugh heartily, as he was laughing tonight. Grin impossibly broad, fine white teeth, flash of emerald eyes under the dark brow. Clark and Lana both looking so ridiculously young, but mature enough to kiss, fall in love...

Go to bed together, maybe. And, God, they'd have beautiful children, given the chance.

The chance might be coming. The invitation was there, in Lana's eyes. Clark could accept, might have accepted, already. It would be easy for Clark to have her, in the loft, in his room, anywhere. But, he doubted Clark would have done that. Still, despite the fact that they were still in their teens, everyone in Smallville would be delighted if they got engaged.

Except him.

Clark was his.

Mine, he thought fiercely. He's mine. Lex frowned with something like possessive desperation, then sighed.

No, he's not, he thought bleakly. He never was. Let Lana have him. It'd be better for everyone, and small matter to him. It wasn't not as though he hadn't been pushing them together since last year.

Hadn't indulged in imagining them together, Clark's big, strong body entwined with hers, slender like a willow, his pretty lips opening to press kisses on her rosebud mouth. Clark rolling over on his back to hold her naked on top, thrusting up to...

He didn't always understand himself. Or the unaccustomed ache that came and went around his heart, depending upon circumstances. The stout had helped, but not blunted it entirely. Almost dimmed the boundaries between worlds.

Clark might not even be of this world. Could be Cuchulainn, in the flesh.

He wasn't sure where the two of them were headed, but he couldn't give him up. Not yet.

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"Lex!" Clark, breathless, came up to grab him by the arm. "Dance with us! Come on." Lex could feel the warmth of Clark's body, health and energy radiating from him as though he were a young sun.

"Yes, Lex, come on," Lana urged, wrinkling her nose, with that coy smile she used on every occasion. "This is so much fun!" Lex noticed, not for the first time, how small and slight she was, as she clung to Clark's arm. Their dance was finished, and she disengaged to wander over to where Clark's parents stood by the table of refreshments. No one was looking in their direction. Clark let his hand glide down Lex's arm, grasped Lex's cool fingers in his warm palm.

Lex fought the impulse to shrug him off as though he were an annoying child. He half smiled and shook his head. "I'm not a dancer, Clark. I'm just here for the pigs' feet and cabbage."

"Is that yours?" asked Clark, with a stern nod at the small plate of food, an uneaten doughnut and a bowl of the stew, strategically placed behind loaves of soda bread. Lex nodded, almost embarrassed. Martha had pressed the food into his reluctant hands maybe half an hour ago, and he'd set it down on the table as soon as she was busy with other guests.

"Yeah, right. You haven't eaten a thing. Or even had much to drink. Which isn't much like you." Clark's smile was like a mountain balefire, warming the late-winter evening and the dusky interior of the barn. Lex backed up to the wall as he moved closer. The striking light eyes fixed him, held him entranced. He couldn't pull his own gaze away, but kept his voice steady.

"Then I'm here to watch. LexCorp paid to bring good musicians here this year, remember. I'm just checking to see that it was a lucrative investment." Heat from Clark's body, even through the warm clothing.

"How about just you and me? It's a reel. Bagpipes, and everything!"

"You're being stupid, Clark. We can't dance together. You know that. Think of your parents, at least."

"We'd just be goofing around. Friends. Everyone's drunk, anyway. Dad, too. Tomorrow, they won't even remember what they saw. Or they'll just think they were imagining it."

Lex smiled and shook his head. "No. There's too much we don't want anyone to know."

Clark frowned, exasperated, and looked away.

"You know I'm right. It's your parents' party. We have to be discreet."

Clark sighed, and nodded. "Too bad Helen couldn't come," he continued after a moment. "Then, you'd have had someone to dance with." Clark turned back to Lex, not looking very disappointed. On the contrary, his warm gaze was growing more intense by the second.

"She had to work tonight. Anyway, I told you, Clark: I don't dance." He lowered his voice. "Even with her. Even for you."

Clark looked flustered for a moment; his cheeks stained a deep rose.

"God, Lex. When you talk that way you..." Clark's voice trailed off into a soft moan.

"Sorry," Lex said easily.

Clark looked as though he were thinking, calculating rapidly. He leaned close, said quietly, "No one's up at the house right now."

"What about Lana?" Lex asked blandly, looking off, not meeting his eyes.

"She's busy. Look." Clark hid his snicker behind an upraised palm. Lana was laughing, leading Jonathan out onto the dance floor by both hands, and Lex chuckled, too. Lana and Mr. Kent even looked good together. Lana looked good with anyone. She'd probably look good dancing with Lionel. "Mom can't dance right now, so..."

Lana and Lionel. Lex really didn't want to go there, but the image intrigued him, all the same.

"So come on," Clark cajoled. "Let's go up to the house. Please?" He let one hand trail down Lex's arm, glide over his hip and down to cup one of his buttocks.

Lex caught his breath at the touch, smiled, nodded. Because, when Clark begged, he was irresistible.

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Forgiveness...forgiving

Lex looked back through the screen door toward the barn, a blaze of light and noise in the misty darkness. Clark stirred the banked embers on the living room hearth and tossed on a couple of logs. In a moment, thin wisps and licks of flames appeared, curling, leaping around the wood. Lex thought of fairy forts and turf smoke, in which lucky and hapless alike might see the future on damp, windswept hillsides. On such a night, one might almost expect to hear the wail of the banshee across the Kansas prairie.

He prodded himself back to the Kent parlor, and the soft drone of Clark's voice, already in the middle of a grouse-fest over the afternoon's St. Patrick's Day parade in town. "The Crows band can never march without hollering at each other to keep in line all the way through the damn parade," He pulled an afghan from the back of the sofa, and thunked down on the couch. "It's always a few of the anal-retentives. No one would notice if they'd just shut up and play. They're just calling attention to the fact that their rows are crooked as hell."

Lex let his fingers drop from the checkered curtain he'd been holding back and turned around. The ghost of a smile played across his lips. "I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Guess not. It's been busy." A log, already in flames, rolled out of the fireplace, kicking sparks over the floor, and Clark grabbed it with speed and tossed it back. It took Clark longer than Lex would have expected to wince and blow on his fingers.

"Any more naps on Route 8?"

Clark looked worried, then frowned. "No," he half-growled, still shaking his hand to cool it.

"You've been with Lana most evenings," Lex went on, turning back to the window. "When we have seen each other, we've been at odds."

"Not last night we weren't. Remember?"

"Yeah," said Lex. "But you've generally had better things to do."

"You know that's not true. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you. And I'm turned on all the time."

Lex shrugged.

Clark sighed. "Lex, I've had a lot on my mind. I'm trying to do the right thing. Dating Lana. It's what my parents want..."

"Is it what you want?" Lex kept his voice even.

"Geez, Lex," Clark snapped, then made a visible effort to calm himself. "I don't know. I don't mean to be a pain. It's just hard, right now. There's so much going down. More than I can keep straight."

"I know," Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Then Lex said, "You have the touch. Or I do. A mood I can't seem to shake."

Clark turned to look at him, then, his eyes dark, his voice so hurt that Lex's heart ached.

"No," he said quietly, "It's not what I want. You should know."

Clark's clear, steady gaze made Lex's heart contract with yearning. He swallowed, opened his mouth to speak, closed it without saying a word.

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Clark fell on the couch, and spread his arm along the back. "Come here."

Lex raised his eyebrows, gave him a half smile. "Not till you beg me, Clark."

"What's Irish for ‘Dork'?" Clark wondered, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Amadan. That will work. It means 'fool', or 'idiot'."

"Just do it. Lex. Please." Clark let his legs fall open, palmed his cock through his trousers, voice sultry.

Lex responded with a light grin as his eyes darkened. "Better."

Get ready...your heart is your guide.

Clark smoothed a hand over Lex's brow, and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Isn't this better than being out there? With all the noise...and people?"

"Yeah." Lex stretched, and slid his arm around Clark's shoulder. "Way too crowded." They lay sprawled on the couch for a moment without speaking, trading random caresses, each of them alternately pulling the other slightly closer, and then releasing.

Clark's hand wandered over Lex's scalp in a lingering caress. "How long did we know each other...before you decided you loved me?"

"Not very," Lex replied, desultory grin fading as he turned to Clark, who'd sounded plaintive, curious, like a child, and waited round-eyed for Lex to continue. "God. Wasn't it obvious from the beginning?"

Clark chuckled, and nestled in. "Sort of." He raised his head, looked at Lex with the expression Lex loved the most. Earnest, intense, clenched jaw making him look even younger than he was. "But I still want you to tell me."

"As soon as I hacked the water out of my lungs, got my breath back, and looked up." Lex looked off toward the unlit kitchen as he spoke, not meeting Clark's eyes. "And, I didn't 'decide.' Something, someone, decided for me."

Clark grinned, letting his eyes drop closed, opening his lips for a kiss

This the time...work it out

"Do you have to get married just now? Can't you wait?" Clark's voice in Lex's ear was barely above a whisper.

"It's time, Clark. Just accept it."

"I do. But I don't have to like it." Clark sat up, clasped and unclasped his hands. Whoops, whistles, and shrieks drifted up from the barn. "They're probably on their two- dozenth keg by now," he ventured with a rueful laugh.

"This thing's a lot of work," Lex stretched his arms and legs out as far as he could. "So, for how many years have the Kents held this extravaganza?"

"The O'Briens held it for the first couple of years. Then, we took it over. So, what: five years? I think I was in fifth grade the first year. My mom's maybe two-thirds Irish, so she doesn't mind. She pretends to, but she loves it. Every year, she--"

The smile faded from Lex's face as his eyes darkened. "Clark..."

"Are you listening to me, Lex?"

"Yeah," said Lex.

Clark sat back, reeled him in again with an indulgent grin. Sleet started to tap and rattle against the windows.

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Be the love...in your heart.
Be the dance...in your soul.

Lex brushed his palm down Clark's arm, grasped his hand, and held it to his mouth. Tongued the palm of Clark's hand, and Clark shivered, exhaled a curse on a shaking breath, sounding almost angry, Lex would have thought, if he hadn't known better.

"You're making me hard. Happens every time. I can never be around you without..." The sentence trailed off into a whimpering moan.

"Good," said Lex. "That was the idea, right? And only a problem if you're anxious to get back to the barn dance. Are you?" He moved in even closer to Clark and palmed his crotch at the same time as he breathed warm breath into his ear, then followed it with a lick to the earlobe. Clark shivered, spread his legs to give Lex better access, placed his hand over Lex's, and let go a low breath. "No..."

Looking good...being strong.

"You're so beautiful, Clark. How the hell did you happen?"

Clark snorted. "You're crazy, Lex. A complete lunatic." He stretched his legs out, stretched his neck so Lex could more easily pepper it with kisses.

Lex kissed, licked, and blew a soft breath on the moist skin.

"You could be one of the Tuatha de Danaan. Six and a half feet tall, swarthy, strong, eyes glowing like red coals. Who'll leave me one of these days for Tir na nOg, land of the ever-young. Or, better yet, take me there with you."

Clark shivered, but smiled. "You'd never be the same if I did. You'd be changed forever."

"I'll come back, and a hundred years will have passed. Right? Fine. Maybe you're one of the Fallen Angels, waiting till the Day of Judgement to learn your fate. I know better than not to believe, Clark."

Clark just nestled in closer, buried his face in the crisp linen of Lex's shirt. Lex touched a strand of dark hair, brushed it back from his brow.

"Do you even own a mirror, Kent? If you do, you don't use it. I'm convinced of it."

Dance the circle, dance the dream.

"You might vanish like smoke from my hands, any minute."

"You're crazy. Or really drunk. Anyway, if you know your mythology the way I'm pretty sure you do, then you know you're in no danger, Lex. I like you."

Love is all...love is everything.

Lex moaned, and Clark slipped to the floor, breath hot on the front of Lex's trousers, nuzzling his crotch, nudging it with his tongue. Lex carded his fingers through Clark's hair, and moaned again, softer, this time.

"Lex, Lex," Clark was groaning, too, fumbling with the top button on his slacks. Lex put his hand over Clark's, and Clark arched up into his hand.

Lex could barely hear his own response. "Damn."

Give your heart...Give your soul.

"I'll give you..." Lex paused theatrically, then favored Clark with a warm grin, "My best Celtic blowjob. Stout-enhanced." He put his hand on Clark, who had already slid down the zipper on his pants. Lex splayed slender fingers on his hard cock and palmed him through damp boxers with the heel of his hand. With a small gasp of pleasure, Clark swallowed hard. His eyes darkened, and he slid his arms around Lex and bent to tease his lips open for a kiss.

"That would be fine," Clark whispered after the caress.

"Then, your wish is granted." Lex murmured against his mouth.

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The sleet was over, and a cold, fresh breeze chilled the air when Clark cracked the window. Lex shivered.

"I'm sorry, Lex. Here." The afghan had fallen to the floor, and Clark reached down for it. He tucked it around Lex, who was amazed at how comforted it made him feel. Clark knelt before Lex, pulled at his hand, touched his lips to the spattered fingers, and licked. Then he brushed his jeans, and chuckled.

Lex laughed, too. "We were a bit sloppy tonight. Too much enthusiasm."

"Yeah, look at my pants. Oh, well." Clark really didn't seem to mind, the chuckle low and rumbling in his chest. "Guess I can't go back to the dance. Look at my pants."

"Darn," said Lex. "Well, at least it rhymes!" He licked his fingers too, and sat up, grinning down at Clark with a deliberately sultry expression. "Maybe the musicians could compose a new piece on that theme."

"Yeah, right, Dork." Clark aimed one of the couch pillows at his head. "I'll get another pair from upstairs, in a few." He pulled Lex back down, and Lex stretched across his chest.

"Oops," said Clark. "I mean, Amadan. Erase the 'Dork'."

"You feel bound to revile me tonight?" Lex felt his breathing slow to a gentle, even stream.

"Yeah." Despite the Cheshire grin, Clark's eyes were beginning to droop.

"I'm honored." Whoops and laughter drifted to the house from the drive. The party was breaking up.

"Okay, Clark." Lex shoved at him, tried to push him up off the couch. "That's it. Get up. Your parents will be in here soon."

Clark didn't budge. "I can't. You wore me out."

Lex smiled, breathing in the fresh scent of shampoo as he buried his face in Clark's hair. "We have to work on your technique," he mumbled. "Needs more practice. What are your afternoons like this week?"

Clark yawned gigantically. "I can come over," he said. "If my genius friend will throw in some homework help."

"How's Lana getting home tonight? I can give her a ride."

"Search me," said Clark with a sleepy, satisfied grin. "No. My folks said they'd give her a ride back to Chloe's. She's taken care of. So don't worry." Lex moved to get up again, and Clark held him still. "Shh!" Clark hissed and chuckled at the same time, putting a finger to Lex's lips. "Don't say anything."

"Just one thing," said Lex. "Clark, a ghra."

"Huh?"

"Mo thaitneamh thu."

"Oh. Okay." Whether or not Clark knew the meaning of the words, he trembled, and Lex smiled.

Love is all...love is everything

Lex was pleasantly surprised to find himself feeling better. By some miracle, he and Clark got out to the paddock both in time to escape detection, and even in time to say good night to Lana. He felt more relaxed, refreshed, not chilled, by the cold air, not the least bit tipsy and, best of all, no longer jealous.

It was a miracle.

They watched the Kents and Lana drive off in Martha's car, Lana waving at them from the back window as though she were a child. They both grinned indulgently as they waved back. "Cute," Lex observed, just to say something. Clark turned to him in semi-astonishment.

"Not that cute," Clark replied under his breath. Lex chuckled at the words, turned to find Clark gazing at him.

"Lex, I don't know what the future holds for either of us. But I promise I'll always try to be a true friend to you."

"That's all I ask, Clark."

"I can't promise...But I can hope... to love you always."

The walls between worlds seemed to thin and fade, and Lex felt something akin to bliss, or the way any normal man might feel at finding a pot of gold left by leprechauns.

"I hope so, too," he said.

"What was it you said in there?"

"'Mo ghra thu?' Or something similar."

Clark grinned. "Me too." He folded Lex in his arms and smiled as the last of the musicians left the barn, halloaing off in the dew-spangled distance.

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a ghra = my love.
Mo thaitneamh thu = I love you. (Literally, "my brightness is for you")
Mo ghra thu = I love you. (Literally, "my love is for you.")

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Feedback is welcome at amoss53@yahoo.com

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