“It’s, like, the same – only different.”
Jan. 15th, 2004 12:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archiveI have no commentary on any of my shows, because I really just don’t feel inspired like that today. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serialkarma reminded me last night though, that when life hands you lemons, you can use them for shots!
Bad:fandom_scruples
Good: A long lists of HP porn to read -- and available in one place!
Bad: Heterosexuality got you down?
Good: [Insert diety of choice] is having a real good laugh at your expense.
Bad: Not entertained by your television shows of choice?
Good: Write what you wanna see.
Smallville
Only Different
It’s all the same.
The jokes. The lidded eyes. The shy smiles and cautious touches. The bold, possessive streaks that flare out at the strangest times.
They’re the same as the way that Clark blinks like a startled horse every time he realizes that Lex wants him too.
They’re so obvious that they’re too obvious.
These are things that Lex knows.
These are things that haven’t changed at all.
These are things that remain in light of his little vacation upstate that nobody talks about.
They’re the same.
Except they’re not.
Not really.
*
The dry press of Clark’s lips against Lex’s mouth hasn’t changed at all.
Clark’s chapped lips are still soft underneath layers of waxen balm, and the thick tongue pushing against Lex’s own hasn’t grown magically forked in the time that Lex has been gone.
Clark’s head invariable tilts to the right since Lex goes to the left, and when Lex’s fingers tangle in uncombed hair, Clark doesn’t wince at the sharp pull that follows.
The way that Clark kisses, the way he responds, these are thing that Lex has spent months trying to coax out of Clark.
Clark is Lex’s creation, and they make allowances to make up for the other’s inclinations.
The sharper Lex’s teeth become, the more Clark yields.
It’s the least he can do.
*
The Kent Farms produce delivery arrives every Tuesday and Thursday at 4:18 p.m. sharp.
Clark is never late.
Lex is never busy.
This is how is has always been.
It’s how it will always be.
Their routine is the same. Except for when it’s not.
But they don’t talk about that.
*
Whether it’s the first time or the fiftieth time, Clark’s fingers still twitch nervously as they try to navigate tiny buttonholes and slippery leather belts. His thick fingers get caught up on Lex’s tie, and the preternatural glow around him seems to dim just for a moment when he meets Lex’s eyes.
Lex pretends not to see this.
He’s very good at pretending not to see what’s obviously there, but the anxious fluttering and twisting inside Lex’s chest never completely abates.
He’s never sure if this time will be the time or not.
*
They go to the Talon together sometimes, but the atmosphere in there is always strangely charged.
Clark and Lana never seem to look each other in the eye.
It’s clear that something has changed. That things aren’t quite the same.
Lex isn’t quite ready for that to happen to them just yet.
He plans to orchestrate his own fall.
*
The path Clark’s tongue traces behind Lex’s ear is unvarying, and Lex likes to think it means something besides uncertainty. He likes to think it means something in another language.
Something like the truth.
The same soft kisses are rained along Lex’s clavicle and his shoulder. The same uncalloused hands slide down his arms and along his chest.
Lex wonders about Clark’s fingerprints as thumbs brush against his nipples, and he shifts to lay back and receive another lie. One more lie doesn’t really matter in the larger scheme of things. There are already so many in the bed with them.
It’s true that Lex loves Clark’s mouth.
He loves Clark’s hands.
Lex loves the feel of Clark when he’s buried so deep inside Lex that Lex can’t remember a time when they didn’t have this. When they weren’t together, and the rest of the world was unimportant.
Sometimes it seems as though they’ve always been together.
As though they are meant to be.
If Lex wasn’t sure, he would think he had never left at all.
Except he knows that’s a lie.
It’s the same one he tells himself almost daily.
*
Sometimes, afterwards, they lay together and talk about random things: Warrior Angel, the Sharks, the movies showing at the Cineplex in Grandville. Sometimes Clark talks about the time that Lex was away as though it never really happened.
Clark pretends as though things haven’t changed at all. Except they have.
Lex has changed.
He knows. He remembers.
He no longer needs affirmation for the things he’s always known are true. He would like for Clark to tell him, but it’s not necessary for his continued survival. The truth isn’t even necessary for the continuation of whatever is happening between them.
All Lex has ever really wanted was verification that he wasn’t crazy, that his suspicions and instincts weren’t wrong, and he now he has that. Now that he knows what Clark is, and what Clark isn’t, he’s more than willing to continue on with the happy Smallvillian charade that so many people are a part of.
It doesn’t matter if things are the same. It doesn’t matter of things aren’t different.
Lex is different.
Now he has no problem with letting things progress the way they are. Changes are coming whether or not anybody else wants to admit them, and at least Lex is ready. For a change he’s the one with all the cards in his hands. He is the one who has all the facts.
The truth makes everything else worth it.
The truth always has a way of making things different.
-end-
Beta and Improv (push, dry, glow, twist, nerve, fall, brush) provided byserialkarma. Rock on, baby.
Note: I would also like to take a moment a thankrunpunkrun for insisting that Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon was actually worth my time to read.
As a full-fledged Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay junkie/die-hard/obsessive, I was loathe to try anything by else by the author and be summarily disappointed. But I wasn’t. Wonder Boys isn’t the same, but it’s still brilliant in its own ways. Very cool indeed.
More notes: Way back in the day I had a deep and holy love for My So-Called Life, but then it was cancelled and lo I was sad. Many, many (many) moons later I discovered fandom, and to my amazement there were people who wrote about this great and departed show. Readwearemany’s Like How You Are and lalejandra’s Stairway, and reminisce about the love.
serialkarma reminded me last night though, that when life hands you lemons, you can use them for shots! Bad:
fandom_scruples Good: A long lists of HP porn to read -- and available in one place!
Bad: Heterosexuality got you down?
Good: [Insert diety of choice] is having a real good laugh at your expense.
Bad: Not entertained by your television shows of choice?
Good: Write what you wanna see.
Smallville
It’s all the same.
The jokes. The lidded eyes. The shy smiles and cautious touches. The bold, possessive streaks that flare out at the strangest times.
They’re the same as the way that Clark blinks like a startled horse every time he realizes that Lex wants him too.
They’re so obvious that they’re too obvious.
These are things that Lex knows.
These are things that haven’t changed at all.
These are things that remain in light of his little vacation upstate that nobody talks about.
They’re the same.
Except they’re not.
Not really.
The dry press of Clark’s lips against Lex’s mouth hasn’t changed at all.
Clark’s chapped lips are still soft underneath layers of waxen balm, and the thick tongue pushing against Lex’s own hasn’t grown magically forked in the time that Lex has been gone.
Clark’s head invariable tilts to the right since Lex goes to the left, and when Lex’s fingers tangle in uncombed hair, Clark doesn’t wince at the sharp pull that follows.
The way that Clark kisses, the way he responds, these are thing that Lex has spent months trying to coax out of Clark.
Clark is Lex’s creation, and they make allowances to make up for the other’s inclinations.
The sharper Lex’s teeth become, the more Clark yields.
It’s the least he can do.
The Kent Farms produce delivery arrives every Tuesday and Thursday at 4:18 p.m. sharp.
Clark is never late.
Lex is never busy.
This is how is has always been.
It’s how it will always be.
Their routine is the same. Except for when it’s not.
But they don’t talk about that.
Whether it’s the first time or the fiftieth time, Clark’s fingers still twitch nervously as they try to navigate tiny buttonholes and slippery leather belts. His thick fingers get caught up on Lex’s tie, and the preternatural glow around him seems to dim just for a moment when he meets Lex’s eyes.
Lex pretends not to see this.
He’s very good at pretending not to see what’s obviously there, but the anxious fluttering and twisting inside Lex’s chest never completely abates.
He’s never sure if this time will be the time or not.
They go to the Talon together sometimes, but the atmosphere in there is always strangely charged.
Clark and Lana never seem to look each other in the eye.
It’s clear that something has changed. That things aren’t quite the same.
Lex isn’t quite ready for that to happen to them just yet.
He plans to orchestrate his own fall.
The path Clark’s tongue traces behind Lex’s ear is unvarying, and Lex likes to think it means something besides uncertainty. He likes to think it means something in another language.
Something like the truth.
The same soft kisses are rained along Lex’s clavicle and his shoulder. The same uncalloused hands slide down his arms and along his chest.
Lex wonders about Clark’s fingerprints as thumbs brush against his nipples, and he shifts to lay back and receive another lie. One more lie doesn’t really matter in the larger scheme of things. There are already so many in the bed with them.
It’s true that Lex loves Clark’s mouth.
He loves Clark’s hands.
Lex loves the feel of Clark when he’s buried so deep inside Lex that Lex can’t remember a time when they didn’t have this. When they weren’t together, and the rest of the world was unimportant.
Sometimes it seems as though they’ve always been together.
As though they are meant to be.
If Lex wasn’t sure, he would think he had never left at all.
Except he knows that’s a lie.
It’s the same one he tells himself almost daily.
Sometimes, afterwards, they lay together and talk about random things: Warrior Angel, the Sharks, the movies showing at the Cineplex in Grandville. Sometimes Clark talks about the time that Lex was away as though it never really happened.
Clark pretends as though things haven’t changed at all. Except they have.
Lex has changed.
He knows. He remembers.
He no longer needs affirmation for the things he’s always known are true. He would like for Clark to tell him, but it’s not necessary for his continued survival. The truth isn’t even necessary for the continuation of whatever is happening between them.
All Lex has ever really wanted was verification that he wasn’t crazy, that his suspicions and instincts weren’t wrong, and he now he has that. Now that he knows what Clark is, and what Clark isn’t, he’s more than willing to continue on with the happy Smallvillian charade that so many people are a part of.
It doesn’t matter if things are the same. It doesn’t matter of things aren’t different.
Lex is different.
Now he has no problem with letting things progress the way they are. Changes are coming whether or not anybody else wants to admit them, and at least Lex is ready. For a change he’s the one with all the cards in his hands. He is the one who has all the facts.
The truth makes everything else worth it.
The truth always has a way of making things different.
-end-
Beta and Improv (push, dry, glow, twist, nerve, fall, brush) provided by
serialkarma. Rock on, baby.Note: I would also like to take a moment a thank
runpunkrun for insisting that Wonder Boys by Michael Chabon was actually worth my time to read. As a full-fledged Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay junkie/die-hard/obsessive, I was loathe to try anything by else by the author and be summarily disappointed. But I wasn’t. Wonder Boys isn’t the same, but it’s still brilliant in its own ways. Very cool indeed.
More notes: Way back in the day I had a deep and holy love for My So-Called Life, but then it was cancelled and lo I was sad. Many, many (many) moons later I discovered fandom, and to my amazement there were people who wrote about this great and departed show. Read
wearemany’s Like How You Are and lalejandra’s Stairway, and reminisce about the love.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 12:15 pm (UTC)And the Clex? So bitter and disappointed, in a way that's absolutely irresistible. *shivers*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 01:57 pm (UTC)That's so me in a nutshell.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 01:58 pm (UTC)I never looked before because truthfully I never even *thought* to look before, but these two piece have magically fallen into my lap, and what's even better: they're really fucking good. Who can say no to that?
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 12:16 pm (UTC)I'm not sure I'd qualify that as a "good" but at least someone's enjoying my pain.
Also, Wonder Boys rocks, I love that book. If you liked that you might also like his first novel The Mysteries of Pittsburgh, which is more similar to that than Kavalier & Clay.
I have to admit I never really liked My So-Called Life. I suspect I'd like it more now if I watched it again.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 01:59 pm (UTC)INFIDEL!
How can you say such hurtful things? *sigh* It's out on DVD, rent it. You'll thank me. Also, yes, Wonder Boys rocks hard.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 12:19 pm (UTC)The truth makes everything else worth it.
The truth always has a way of making things different.
Oh, yessssss.
The changes portion is positively *chilling*. He's so calm about it, so matter-of-fact. *exhales*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 02:01 pm (UTC)Yes, that would be Scientist!Lex.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 12:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 12:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 02:06 pm (UTC)I'm sorry I made you cry, but I'm pleased you liked the story.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 02:22 pm (UTC)xoxo,
Vlada
no subject
Date: 2004-01-21 04:48 am (UTC)Doomed, doomed boys. I *love* 'em, and I love 'em in your hands.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-22 06:10 pm (UTC)