hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-03-15 04:42 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-03-15 04:42 pm
Entry tags:
SV - Quicksand
It’s happy. It’s sarcastic. No, seriously.
Smallville
Lex/Clark
Quicksand
The problem with being in love with Clark Kent was that it clearly wasn’t A Good Idea, and Lex always specialized in good ideas. Lex’s ideas were always practical and rational and economically sound -- well, they were once he’d got off the drugs -- and his life didn’t need the sort of complications that love always seemed to bring his way. Betrayal, attempted murder, desert island extended vacations, mealworms and visits to Belle Reve. No, Lex really wasn’t interested in falling in love anymore, plus, there was the whole thing about Clark working for the Daily Planet and being Superman and lots of other annoying traits that Lex was supposed to loathe. Except he didn’t, and the whole thing bothered him, a lot.
Clark was an alien. And he’d lied to Lex, a lot. Plus, he was always in Lex’s business like a really bitchy ex-wife –- not that Lex had a lot of experience with those, but he’d heard -- and would it have been too much for Lex to fall for someone more like him? Someone like Bruce, maybe. Or Adam Knight/Chad Nash. Somebody who wasn’t so invested in doing what was right all the time.
*
To Lex, the only thing more annoying than being in love with Clark, was the realization that Clark probably loved him, too. There was no other way to explain all the lifesaving and stern talking to’s.
Lex couldn’t even begin to count the number of times Superman had shown up at four in the morning to save him from some half-assed kidnapping attempt or bomb threat. And of course, Superman always had to fly Lex home. He could never just drop Lex off on the corner like he did with everyone else. It was like the world’s longest, most frustrating date, and there was no other explanation for the way Clark’s bottom lip sometime wobbled when Lex glared at him.
Plus, there was the spandex. There was no way Clark was wearing that outfit for anybody but Lex, and the only reason Lex didn’t mind the lack of purple was because Clark had too much hair to be Warrior Angel.
*
Truthfully, Lex tried not to think about Clark that much at all, because he had people to bribe and important lunches to attend, but not thinking about Clark never worked out as well as Lex thought it should’ve.
At the black-tie dinners, Clark and his faithful succubus were always skulking in the corners, listening to every clink of Lex’s champagne glass when it knocked against his teeth. Clark in a tuxedo, even a cheap, rented one, was nothing to be sniffed at, and even when Lex went outside for air, he could feel Clark’s eyes boring into his head. It didn’t help matters that Lex could unfailingly wake up in the middle of the night and find Superman hovering near his balcony, doing god only knew what with that x-ray vision of his. At least Lex was nice enough to give him a show twice a week, in the name of philanthropy, of course.
Clearly it was anything but.
*
Even with all the problems that loving Clark brought into Lex’s life – marked decrease in appetite, downward projection of earnings due to attempting to do the right thing – Lex refused to admit defeat.
If he was in love, that was fine. If Clark was in love, that was fine, too. That didn’t mean they had to be in love *together*. Or so he thought until the day he walked into his office and found a folded piece of yellowing notebook paper on his chair. It looked so old Lex thought it might disintegrate in his hands, and he would’ve called Teresa and told her to call the labs, if it hadn’t been for his name chicken-scratched on one side.
Lex wouldn’t recognize twenty-five year-old Clark Kent’s handwriting, but he certainly knew the fifteen-year old version, and when he opened the note, he was amazed by its simplicity.
Of course the answer was ‘yes’.
Why couldn’t Clark have said something all those years ago? Apart from the whole underage, illegal, purportedly-heterosexual thing, naturally. Why was it always so hard to tell someone that you liked them? Why couldn’t more people take a leap of faith?
And then Lex thought about his ex-wives and almost made a bad decision.
*
That night Lex Luthor met Clark Kent for their first proper date, because all those other nights of lifesaving and pretending not to grope each other while flying through the air didn’t really count. The next day, Lex sent flowers. The following evening, Clark cooked, which pretty much translated into pizza and beer. And then there was sex. A lot of sex, because Lex deserved to get a lot of sex after all the shit that Clark had put him through.
A month later, Clark accompanied Lex to a dinner as his date, and then they were in the papers together, and it was all downhill from there:
Billionaire Playboy Tamed by Boy Next Door
LexCorp CEO dating Daily Planet star
Lex didn’t want to clean up his act, but it appeared as though he wasn’t going to have much choice in the matter.
Being in love with Clark Kent was a lot like being caught in quicksand, the more Lex struggled the worse it got. Of course, out of all the ways Clark could kill him, at least this one didn’t involve anything more painful than Clark singing in the shower. And at the end of the day Lex knew that if being in love with Clark was the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he was living a pretty good life.
-end-
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand.
- Edna St. Vincent Milay
Notes: GIP courtesy of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oxoniensis
Smallville
Lex/Clark
The problem with being in love with Clark Kent was that it clearly wasn’t A Good Idea, and Lex always specialized in good ideas. Lex’s ideas were always practical and rational and economically sound -- well, they were once he’d got off the drugs -- and his life didn’t need the sort of complications that love always seemed to bring his way. Betrayal, attempted murder, desert island extended vacations, mealworms and visits to Belle Reve. No, Lex really wasn’t interested in falling in love anymore, plus, there was the whole thing about Clark working for the Daily Planet and being Superman and lots of other annoying traits that Lex was supposed to loathe. Except he didn’t, and the whole thing bothered him, a lot.
Clark was an alien. And he’d lied to Lex, a lot. Plus, he was always in Lex’s business like a really bitchy ex-wife –- not that Lex had a lot of experience with those, but he’d heard -- and would it have been too much for Lex to fall for someone more like him? Someone like Bruce, maybe. Or Adam Knight/Chad Nash. Somebody who wasn’t so invested in doing what was right all the time.
To Lex, the only thing more annoying than being in love with Clark, was the realization that Clark probably loved him, too. There was no other way to explain all the lifesaving and stern talking to’s.
Lex couldn’t even begin to count the number of times Superman had shown up at four in the morning to save him from some half-assed kidnapping attempt or bomb threat. And of course, Superman always had to fly Lex home. He could never just drop Lex off on the corner like he did with everyone else. It was like the world’s longest, most frustrating date, and there was no other explanation for the way Clark’s bottom lip sometime wobbled when Lex glared at him.
Plus, there was the spandex. There was no way Clark was wearing that outfit for anybody but Lex, and the only reason Lex didn’t mind the lack of purple was because Clark had too much hair to be Warrior Angel.
Truthfully, Lex tried not to think about Clark that much at all, because he had people to bribe and important lunches to attend, but not thinking about Clark never worked out as well as Lex thought it should’ve.
At the black-tie dinners, Clark and his faithful succubus were always skulking in the corners, listening to every clink of Lex’s champagne glass when it knocked against his teeth. Clark in a tuxedo, even a cheap, rented one, was nothing to be sniffed at, and even when Lex went outside for air, he could feel Clark’s eyes boring into his head. It didn’t help matters that Lex could unfailingly wake up in the middle of the night and find Superman hovering near his balcony, doing god only knew what with that x-ray vision of his. At least Lex was nice enough to give him a show twice a week, in the name of philanthropy, of course.
Clearly it was anything but.
Even with all the problems that loving Clark brought into Lex’s life – marked decrease in appetite, downward projection of earnings due to attempting to do the right thing – Lex refused to admit defeat.
If he was in love, that was fine. If Clark was in love, that was fine, too. That didn’t mean they had to be in love *together*. Or so he thought until the day he walked into his office and found a folded piece of yellowing notebook paper on his chair. It looked so old Lex thought it might disintegrate in his hands, and he would’ve called Teresa and told her to call the labs, if it hadn’t been for his name chicken-scratched on one side.
Lex wouldn’t recognize twenty-five year-old Clark Kent’s handwriting, but he certainly knew the fifteen-year old version, and when he opened the note, he was amazed by its simplicity.
Of course the answer was ‘yes’.
Why couldn’t Clark have said something all those years ago? Apart from the whole underage, illegal, purportedly-heterosexual thing, naturally. Why was it always so hard to tell someone that you liked them? Why couldn’t more people take a leap of faith?
And then Lex thought about his ex-wives and almost made a bad decision.
That night Lex Luthor met Clark Kent for their first proper date, because all those other nights of lifesaving and pretending not to grope each other while flying through the air didn’t really count. The next day, Lex sent flowers. The following evening, Clark cooked, which pretty much translated into pizza and beer. And then there was sex. A lot of sex, because Lex deserved to get a lot of sex after all the shit that Clark had put him through.
A month later, Clark accompanied Lex to a dinner as his date, and then they were in the papers together, and it was all downhill from there:
LexCorp CEO dating Daily Planet star
Lex didn’t want to clean up his act, but it appeared as though he wasn’t going to have much choice in the matter.
Being in love with Clark Kent was a lot like being caught in quicksand, the more Lex struggled the worse it got. Of course, out of all the ways Clark could kill him, at least this one didn’t involve anything more painful than Clark singing in the shower. And at the end of the day Lex knew that if being in love with Clark was the worst thing that had ever happened to him, he was living a pretty good life.
-end-
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand.
- Edna St. Vincent Milay
Notes: GIP courtesy of
oxoniensis
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