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hackthis_archiveWhat never fails to amuse me about writing is the way that you can never tell what will resonate with who, (which is why you should always write for yourself, first) so thank you to everyone who commented on The World According to Taxi Drivers.
Also, I’m so touched by the lovely people who thought of me for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
svmadelyn‘s V-Day lovefest, especially considering my well-known aversion to said Hallmark holiday. Thank you. I spent said commercial weekend with the always charming and amusing LA/OC contingent being schooled on The L Word, eating a passel of Krispy Kremes, marveling over the mini-Sephora in kattiya’s bathroom and desperately hoping happyminion really won’t leave us. We need you! We’ll resort to felonies if we have to! (Just saying)
This was supposed to be a Clark POV, but, um, no.
Smallville
The Boy Who Cried Love
Superman comes to see Lex on a non-descript Thursday at seven-eighteen in the evening.
The month is October, and the year isn’t really important enough to remember. It could be any number of years since Superman became Superman and not Clark Kent, the boy with the green eyes, disarming smile and beautiful mouth full of lies.
He appears outside Lex’s French doors in full superhero regalia, looking strangely nervous and out of character for the savior of the free world. Lex tilts his head to the side as though the hallucination will disappear if his brain slides back to the right angle, but he never moves, and Lex can‘t help but stare.
Lex doesn’t have to let him in. Mercy and Hope are right outside the front door, but curiosity has always been one of Lex’s most persistent characteristics, and he can’t see any reason to break from the norm.
It’s always about observing the status quo.
There’s nothing remarkable about the day: no huge expose by Lane and Kent in The Daily Planet, no NASDAQ-blowing takeover by LexCorp, no landslides in Malibu or monsoons in Bombay.
The weather is bland, the sky is cloudless, there’s nothing happening anywhere in the world more important than this visit, but Lex is not going to let this thing in his house.
He crosses the room and cracks the door slightly. It’s not the tilt of Superman’s head or the thin line of his lips that tells Lex everything he needs to know before he opens his mouth. It’s in his eyes.
Clark’s eyes.
“Luthor,” Superman says.
Lex just sighs.
“When did harassment become part of your calling card?” he asks, opening the door and stepping over the threshold to the otherside.
When Superman crosses his arms, Lex can’t help but smirk in amusement. He knows, but Superman doesn’t. How deliciously novel.
“Was there something in particular you wanted, Superman, or was this just a courtesy call to let me know you haven’t forgotten about me?”
“I,” Superman begins, but his voice falters, and again, Lex sees Clark looking at him through Superman’s eyes.
“I’m not going to make this easy on you,” Lex says, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“You never did before; I’m not expecting you to start now.”
“Your grasp of the obvious is boring,” Lex says, turning away to leave. He resolutely does not flinch when Superman says his name with Clark’s voice.
And Clark‘s “I’m sorry,” is not what Lex hears.
What Lex hears is, “I’m not sorry for anything, because I’m always right.”
So he walks back through the doors and locks them tight.
*
The month is November. The day is Monday. Superman is on the balcony when Lex walks from the bedroom to the kitchen at six-oh-five in the morning.
Lex is resolutely unsurprised by his morning guest, and even if his brain can only think of coffee, there are other, more masochistic parts of his body that are interested in his visitor outside.
Judging by the cape flapping behind his guest, Lex would wager that it’s going to be a bit chilly outside today. He’ll wear his midnight blue sweater instead of a tie today.
The soft carpeting underneath his feet is abandoned for the rough concrete of the balcony with some reluctance. He’ll have to have some protective flooring put down this week if he‘s going to keep doing this.
“Stalking is definitely not allowed by law,” Lex says with frown before closing his robe and tying the sash tight.
Superman’s nose is pink, but Lex knows he can’t feel the cold. “What do you want?”
Lex bites his tongue to keep from calling Superman Clark, and he doesn’t have to pretend to be startled when Superman crowds into his personal space and breathes against his exposed skin.
“I miss you,” Superman says.
What Lex hears is, “I miss the way you let me lie to your face and still thought the world of me.”
“There’s nothing to miss,” Lex says.
He’s just turning away when Superman says his name in that voice, again.
“You have no right to miss me,” Lex says over his shoulder. “You brought this on yourself.”
*
Clark shows up at the Lex Corp offices at four-thirty-three on Christmas Eve, and Security only lets him up because Lex never bothered to remove Clark’s name from the All Access list. Clearly someone is going to have a very bad Christmas day.
Yvonne is still buzzing him to pick up the phone when Clark walks through the front door, and Lex can’t bring himself to be surprised. He is taken off-guard when the door closes behind Clark, and Lex finds himself plastered against floor-to-ceiling windows with Clark’s tongue in his mouth.
He’s never kissed Superman.
He’s never really wanted to.
When Superman says, “I love you,” what Lex hears is, “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe you won’t hurt me, because you’re a Luthor and you’re you and I’ve seen what happens to people who you love. I‘ve tried to stay away, but it‘s not working.”
Lex knows the feeling.
“It’s not enough,” Lex says when Clark pulls away looking lost and confused and hopeful and impossibly sad.
Some people don’t understand the problem with love, but Lex does.
Love is for fools and romantics and believers and masochists. It may make the world go round, but it also makes fools of men. Love is expensive and costly and dangerous, and all love does is make things worse. It makes people willfully blind and positively stupid, and Lex knows better than to expose himself to that sort of ridicule and heartache, again.
He’s been trying to climb out of falling in love ever since he met Clark. All he can do is pretend otherwise.
“You‘re too late,” Lex says over Clark‘s inevitable protestations.
When Clark’s confusion begins to segue into something else, Lex breaks away to straighten his tie. “It’s better this way,” he says.
“How can you say that?” Clark’s eyes are huge and there’s no trace of Superman to be found in their depths. “I love you. I miss you. There’s nothing I won’t do for you -- you know that.”
“There’s nothing you wouldn’t say if you thought I would believe it,” Lex corrects. “I’m never going to change, and neither are you.”
“We can make it work.” When Clark raises his voice, all Lex can hear is Superman, and when Lex finds himself nose-to-nose with Clark again, all he can do is shake his head.
“You don’t get, do you, Clark? Love ruined everything in the first place.”
-end-
Also, I’m so touched by the lovely people who thought of me for
svmadelyn‘s V-Day lovefest, especially considering my well-known aversion to said Hallmark holiday. Thank you. I spent said commercial weekend with the always charming and amusing LA/OC contingent being schooled on The L Word, eating a passel of Krispy Kremes, marveling over the mini-Sephora in kattiya’s bathroom and desperately hoping happyminion really won’t leave us. We need you! We’ll resort to felonies if we have to! (Just saying)This was supposed to be a Clark POV, but, um, no.
Smallville
Superman comes to see Lex on a non-descript Thursday at seven-eighteen in the evening.
The month is October, and the year isn’t really important enough to remember. It could be any number of years since Superman became Superman and not Clark Kent, the boy with the green eyes, disarming smile and beautiful mouth full of lies.
He appears outside Lex’s French doors in full superhero regalia, looking strangely nervous and out of character for the savior of the free world. Lex tilts his head to the side as though the hallucination will disappear if his brain slides back to the right angle, but he never moves, and Lex can‘t help but stare.
Lex doesn’t have to let him in. Mercy and Hope are right outside the front door, but curiosity has always been one of Lex’s most persistent characteristics, and he can’t see any reason to break from the norm.
It’s always about observing the status quo.
There’s nothing remarkable about the day: no huge expose by Lane and Kent in The Daily Planet, no NASDAQ-blowing takeover by LexCorp, no landslides in Malibu or monsoons in Bombay.
The weather is bland, the sky is cloudless, there’s nothing happening anywhere in the world more important than this visit, but Lex is not going to let this thing in his house.
He crosses the room and cracks the door slightly. It’s not the tilt of Superman’s head or the thin line of his lips that tells Lex everything he needs to know before he opens his mouth. It’s in his eyes.
Clark’s eyes.
“Luthor,” Superman says.
Lex just sighs.
“When did harassment become part of your calling card?” he asks, opening the door and stepping over the threshold to the otherside.
When Superman crosses his arms, Lex can’t help but smirk in amusement. He knows, but Superman doesn’t. How deliciously novel.
“Was there something in particular you wanted, Superman, or was this just a courtesy call to let me know you haven’t forgotten about me?”
“I,” Superman begins, but his voice falters, and again, Lex sees Clark looking at him through Superman’s eyes.
“I’m not going to make this easy on you,” Lex says, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“You never did before; I’m not expecting you to start now.”
“Your grasp of the obvious is boring,” Lex says, turning away to leave. He resolutely does not flinch when Superman says his name with Clark’s voice.
And Clark‘s “I’m sorry,” is not what Lex hears.
What Lex hears is, “I’m not sorry for anything, because I’m always right.”
So he walks back through the doors and locks them tight.
The month is November. The day is Monday. Superman is on the balcony when Lex walks from the bedroom to the kitchen at six-oh-five in the morning.
Lex is resolutely unsurprised by his morning guest, and even if his brain can only think of coffee, there are other, more masochistic parts of his body that are interested in his visitor outside.
Judging by the cape flapping behind his guest, Lex would wager that it’s going to be a bit chilly outside today. He’ll wear his midnight blue sweater instead of a tie today.
The soft carpeting underneath his feet is abandoned for the rough concrete of the balcony with some reluctance. He’ll have to have some protective flooring put down this week if he‘s going to keep doing this.
“Stalking is definitely not allowed by law,” Lex says with frown before closing his robe and tying the sash tight.
Superman’s nose is pink, but Lex knows he can’t feel the cold. “What do you want?”
Lex bites his tongue to keep from calling Superman Clark, and he doesn’t have to pretend to be startled when Superman crowds into his personal space and breathes against his exposed skin.
“I miss you,” Superman says.
What Lex hears is, “I miss the way you let me lie to your face and still thought the world of me.”
“There’s nothing to miss,” Lex says.
He’s just turning away when Superman says his name in that voice, again.
“You have no right to miss me,” Lex says over his shoulder. “You brought this on yourself.”
Clark shows up at the Lex Corp offices at four-thirty-three on Christmas Eve, and Security only lets him up because Lex never bothered to remove Clark’s name from the All Access list. Clearly someone is going to have a very bad Christmas day.
Yvonne is still buzzing him to pick up the phone when Clark walks through the front door, and Lex can’t bring himself to be surprised. He is taken off-guard when the door closes behind Clark, and Lex finds himself plastered against floor-to-ceiling windows with Clark’s tongue in his mouth.
He’s never kissed Superman.
He’s never really wanted to.
When Superman says, “I love you,” what Lex hears is, “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe you won’t hurt me, because you’re a Luthor and you’re you and I’ve seen what happens to people who you love. I‘ve tried to stay away, but it‘s not working.”
Lex knows the feeling.
“It’s not enough,” Lex says when Clark pulls away looking lost and confused and hopeful and impossibly sad.
Some people don’t understand the problem with love, but Lex does.
Love is for fools and romantics and believers and masochists. It may make the world go round, but it also makes fools of men. Love is expensive and costly and dangerous, and all love does is make things worse. It makes people willfully blind and positively stupid, and Lex knows better than to expose himself to that sort of ridicule and heartache, again.
He’s been trying to climb out of falling in love ever since he met Clark. All he can do is pretend otherwise.
“You‘re too late,” Lex says over Clark‘s inevitable protestations.
When Clark’s confusion begins to segue into something else, Lex breaks away to straighten his tie. “It’s better this way,” he says.
“How can you say that?” Clark’s eyes are huge and there’s no trace of Superman to be found in their depths. “I love you. I miss you. There’s nothing I won’t do for you -- you know that.”
“There’s nothing you wouldn’t say if you thought I would believe it,” Lex corrects. “I’m never going to change, and neither are you.”
“We can make it work.” When Clark raises his voice, all Lex can hear is Superman, and when Lex finds himself nose-to-nose with Clark again, all he can do is shake his head.
“You don’t get, do you, Clark? Love ruined everything in the first place.”
-end-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 12:41 am (UTC)I mean. Ouch.
However, I love me some Rift, and therefore am madly in love with this story which is, of course, predictable, as it is you. Your prose is always so damned *clean*. You've really got this great way of just paring it down, and making it so stark, and simple -- way admirable, dude. And, besides, your Lex is like, a rockstar and very sexy even when doing the Nifra-heart-couscous thing.
Lex would be the best rockstar.
Date: 2004-02-17 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 12:58 am (UTC)All I can think now is tht Lex has made his own mistakes and discovered that Lionel was trying to help all along.
Lex is the only creature who can make Superman appear pathetic, and you made me like it. I agree with Lex here, and he is righteous. Thanks for sharing.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:01 pm (UTC)Lex is righteous.
That *so* belongs on a tee shirt.
writer of righteousness
Date: 2004-02-17 11:34 pm (UTC)Absolutely. The icon failed miserably and turned out rather Catholic.
I can't always win, I suppose.
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 01:16 am (UTC)You can rip out my heart anytime you like with fic such as this. I love the way this feels so isolated. When Lex sees Superman's cape flapping in the wind and his thoughts are of weather-appropriate clothing for the day, you have let us know in that one thought that Lex is completely shut down to Clark. There's no way he's ever going to buy into anything Clark says or does.
I adore your prose, (yeah, you've never heard me say *that* before) - how it gives us only what we need to know. So clear and precise, cutting like Lex to what really matters. I also can see this so very well as a potential future for Clark and Lex. It's gut-wrenching, but *realistic*, and damn, I'll just toddle on along after you if you write more. I'll umm...try not to drool on your shoes.
...too much.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:03 pm (UTC)*brushes dust off Lyra's heart*
Look, good as new!
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 02:44 am (UTC)And honestly, what gets me most, is the title. Poor boys.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 02:58 am (UTC)So good. *loves you*
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 03:35 am (UTC)When Superman says, “I love you,” what Lex hears is, “I don’t trust you. I don’t believe you won’t hurt me, because you’re a Luthor and you’re you and I’ve seen what happens to people who you love. I‘ve tried to stay away, but it‘s not working.”
I love how you did those lines and the other ones like those. I love the way you write Lex and I ALWAYS have. He's so layered and complicated and god, I want to hold him.
*adores as usual*
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:09 pm (UTC)Lex is just -- he's Lex, and I will never get tired of him. I may need some breaks every now and then, but hey, who doesn't? *adores back*
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 04:07 am (UTC)I really like your writing style. It's sharp, clean, and concise. I didn't even feel it when you ripped my chest open and yanked my heart out. Heh! Okay, that's a lie. I did feel it.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:10 pm (UTC)See, that's the best kind of surgery! Just, um, don't look at the still beating heart in my hand, okay?
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 04:12 am (UTC)Love isn't enough.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:07 pm (UTC)*laughs* Embrace the rift!
no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 04:13 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 04:28 am (UTC)Poor poor Lex, who's been burned so much he can't possibly even entertain the possibility of it happening again. And how everything he hears when Clark is talking isn't his distrust of Clark but his distrust of himself and of letting himself be vulnerable and oh, ouch. *pours Lex a drink*.
I love how he clings to the minute, practical details of his immediate surroundings in every scene, like here:
Judging by the cape flapping behind his guest, Lex would wager that it’s going to be a bit chilly outside today. He’ll wear his midnight blue sweater instead of a tie today
and this:
When Clark’s confusion begins to segue into something else, Lex breaks away to straighten his tie.
This was great, in case that wasn't clear.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 12:31 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:06 pm (UTC)*sigh*
Date: 2004-02-17 05:42 pm (UTC)lovely bit of heartache, as alwasy
Re: *sigh*
Date: 2004-02-17 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 06:06 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:05 pm (UTC)What day is it again?
Date: 2004-02-17 07:21 pm (UTC)But know that I need to take you and Mel out to dinner right? Because I think one or both of you spent way too much on snacks - I have enough chips/soda to last til D-Day!
Re: What day is it again?
Date: 2004-02-17 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-17 07:03 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2004-02-17 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-02-18 12:03 am (UTC):sniff:sniff:
Date: 2004-02-18 04:11 am (UTC)He’s never really wanted to.
Good god this makes me sad. I am starting to embrace the rift, especially after last weeks episode when jackass, I mean Clark, couldn't even be honest about the car. My poor Lexy deserves better. Anyway, well done as always. I'm off to go cry in a corner now.